Only Exception
by Phoenix hemo
Summary: Brittany was an orphan who watched her mother get killed in front of her by her dad. when she got adopted by the Lopez family she thought her troubles were over. but her troubles were just beginning. this is the story of her journey. the journey that led her to Santana Lopez. Ok i suck at writing summaries.
1. Chapter 1

The world's been unkind to me

Yet I refused to surrender to thee

For they say, in time, good comes to the good

But how long shall I wait until it should?

* * *

The last memory I possessed of my mother was her fear stricken face as I unwillingly witnessed her murder ensue. I expected her to close her eyes tightly–until I could barely see her eyelashes. I expected her to scream incoherently, but instead, she locked her eyes firmly with mine and smiled serenely. Before he delivered his deadly blow, my dear mother uttered my name, one last time, from her rosy lips, Brittany.

No one can say my name as beautifully as she did. She was the person who was closest to my heart. With her, I felt important, special in some way. When she smiled, the lucid luminosity could outshine everyone. When she spoke, the soothing lullaby could lull anyone to sleep. When she embraced, the immense warmth could give anyone calm solace. She was one in a million; she was my wonderful mother, but even my love for her could not save her from the tragedy that aroused.

I was helpless, like any ten year old, who would confront such a catastrophic nightmare. I could not help her when she took her last breath in my name. I watched her tragic demise occur without my consent and without preparation.

I was not ready for the horrifying death of my precious mother. And probably, I would never be. Yet, within seconds, she was snatched away from me, like a pitiful puppet bound by my fragile threads.

Watching the light snatched away from her eyes, I felt my innocent heart ripped apart by the murderer, my father.

Ever since that day, I roamed…roamed around foster homes, unable to settle permanently into any one of the bitter dwellings. The moratorium of a home left me deprived of optimistic emotions. I remained isolated in the darkest corner of the world where no soul could witness my desperate cries for the touch of bliss.

Nobody wanted me. And possibly, I could never be wanted.

Until after six years, when I heard that my father was sentenced to life without parole. The lady in charge of the foster care told me I would be adopted. I asked her what adopted means.

"It means they can't send you back here anymore. You'll stay in their house forever," she told me.

"I'm scared," I confessed.

"Don't be sweetie, if they're adopting you, that means, they'll take care of you real good. You got nothing to worry 'bout." She laughed loudly. I smiled, reassured by her words.

From then on, I counted down the days until I would finally be in my new home. It wasn't long; the days passed by very quickly as there were only legal papers to fill out and legal matters to finalize. They lady in charge introduced me to my new mother and father. Their names were Mr. and Mrs. Lopez.

"Hello," I spoke softly. Looking at me, they made sounds like "aw" and said things like "so cute". I smiled although I didn't like their portrayed image of me.

"What's your name?" Mrs. Lopez asked.

"Brittany Pierce" I stated.

"That's a lovely name, what do you think dear?" she asked her husband.

"Yes, that sounds nice." He approved.

"Do I have to change my last name to Lopez?" I asked them before thinking. I bit my tongue, regretting it immediately.

"Oh dear, that won't be necessary." She laughed. Her laughter was warm, like sweet honey I smiled hearing her serene laughter. "I want you to keep your surname. After all, it is part of your identity. Don't forget who you are sweetheart."

"Let's take you home sweetie," I felt Mr. Lopez's arm around my shoulder as I stepped out of my foster care, forever.

However, along with leaving the foster care, I, in time, realized that I had left my dignity, identity, and happiness too and that, forever.

* * *

In a few years, Mr. Lopez, my new father, was dead. I had not known him for a long time but he had become someone special in my heart. He was kind to me, and though strange, he reminded me of my mother. Mrs. Lopez, my new mother, was just as generous, treating me with the utmost sincerity. I was thankful every day to God for the home and family I was blessed with. I told Him, I take back all the bad things I said to Him when He took my mother to heaven. He had given me much more in exchange, leaving me far less than unhappy. I was serendipitous, a four-leaf clover with endless fortune.

But, yet again, He took my father away from me.

And everything changed. Everything.

As if the world had revolved one-eighty degrees suddenly, I became ill-fated. My new mother changed into a cynical misanthrope. She refused to drop me off to school. She impeded her daily routine of coming in to kiss me good night. Most of all, Mama rejected my every word and denied my very existence. I was no more, the precious child to her. I was someone she could not abide. But I believed that within gradual time, she would become herself again.

Then one night, I heard her speaking to James, her younger biological son. He was eight.

"It's all her fault. That stupid, disgusting orphan. Do you understand?" She whispered to him. "She took away your father."

I heard wrong, I thought. I shook my head, listening again.

"She took away everything, my husband, your father, our happiness." She said, firmly holding the young James. My lips quivered as I ran into my room.

I thought it was temporary, her hatred "act". I was wrong. It wasn't temporary, nor was it an act. She truly believed that his death was caused by none other than me. I could not apprehend such a drastic misunderstanding; in what way I could've impacted his death. But then again, it didn't matter. To her, I was the murderer of her husband.

She moved my belongings to the basement and demanded that I stay out of her sight. I spoke no word, nonetheless of her abusive behaviour. I became a recluse in the comfort of the blank walls surrounding me. When I did come out of my new room, I was confronted by her aggressive, violent attitude. She would not spare me mercy. Her rash behaviour resulted into me ending up pushed to the floor, her feet squishing me to the ground.

Then, I realized that her resentment would not alleviate within time. It was permanent and unremitting. Her kindness was just a figment of my memory, never to be reawakened.

There was one person, however, who began to rescue me from her ill-treatment. Santana, who was supposedly my foster sister, but she told me from the first day I met her to never think of her as my sister.

"I will never think of you as my sister." She spoke arrogantly. "Don't expect anything from you."

I had agreed immediately and scurried off to my room. She never spoke to me, hardly liking the idea of staying in the same room with me. I struggled to evade her presence too, refusing to confront her possible rash behaviour.

Yet, somehow she had become my protector.

"I'm sorry," I said the first day she saw me sprawled on the ground, my blood tainting the kitchen floor. "I'll leave."

I fought to gain my balance but since my leg was twisted, I could not stand on an upright position. She hurried to my aid, holding my arms over her shoulder. She picked me up gently, whispering optimistic words of encouragement in my ear. I bit my lip, wincing as I realized that my bottom lip was cleaved too. Blood oozed out of my lip, trickling down my chin. She groaned from rage, impatience, frustration…I did not know, but the next moment, I was up in her arms as she carried me up to her bedroom.

I did not utter a word and nor did she. She took her first aid kit and helped to mend my wounds, bandaging up the slashed skins which spilled globules of blood.

"Stay here today. It's not a good idea to leave in this situation." She ordered. I complied. "Why do you stink so much?"

"I didn't shower for days." I replied genuinely.

"Why?" She asked, inching away from me.

"There is no shower stall in the basement. I can only use the bathroom in the living room. Mama yells at me if I take too long."

"Then, take showers in my shower stall from now on. Here, take it." She took my hand gently, placing a key in my palm before enclosing my hand into a fist. Santana looked at me one last time before standing up. She headed towards the door.

"Thank you," I stated softly. She stopped in her gait to shoot me a repellent glare. I swallowed from fear, twisting the bed sheets in my hands.

"Don't expect anything good from me, especially towards an outsider like you."


	2. Chapter 2

Your actions leave me in perplexity

Inducing me to take a step closer

To unconsciously gaze into your eyes of beauty

And finally find the awaited answer

The moment I heard the deafening silence, I knew I was alone. The house was still, without any sign from Santana. I sat up and realized that my entire body was sore with agonizing pain. Of course my body would be sore, I was physically abused only a few hours ago. I attempted to remove myself from the bed, praying that I would find balance with my two feet.

I didn't. Instead, as I tried to stand up, I instantly fell back on the bed. The pain had shot up my feet, squeezing my leg muscles with utter torment. Although one leg hurt far more than the other, both of them were damaged to a certain level.

However, I couldn't stay where Santana stayed. She would hate to see me here lying in her bed. She would dread just the sight of me. I could not stay here where I was unwanted. She had told me to stay but how could I stay knowing my close presence would only bring discomfort to her? Besides, if anything, She only offered to let me remain here temporarily because she was being humane.

Painfully, I managed to finally stand only to limp towards the door. I peered out to make sure James, Santana, or Mama was not in the hallway. Hastily, I headed to the staircase hoping eagerly to gain the strength to descend them.

I took my first step on the staircase; the pain increased and automatically I winced. I bit my lip dreading the next step but I took it nevertheless. I had accomplished half of my goal as I was half way down the staircase. I smiled from my excruciating success although the pain had only gotten worse by every muscle I tensed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice startled me and before my eyes reached towards Santana, I found myself falling down. She grasped me by the waist so my face was hidden in her the crook of her neck while she held up my upper body. She ascended a few steps so she was level with me. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I removed myself from her grasp, taking her hands off my waist, and looked up at her. There was absolute anger and concern in her voice, unable to be masked through her scowling face. Her expression showed worry towards me and swiftly, I averted my gaze. Her big brown eyes were too intense.

"I was going to my room." I replied timidly.

"Your room? In this condition?" She interrogated furiously. Her hands were balled up into fists, threatening to punch someone. "Are you as stupid as I presumed?"

My head shot up at her disrespectful comment, but quickly, I bit my lip so I would not retaliate to her rude remark. I closed my eyes controlling myself. If I simply went to my room, I would not have to confront her again. Heaving a sigh, I took another step down, but she purposefully blocked me. I pushed her gently hoping she would comprehend my gesture, but instead, she gripped onto my wrist. She pulled me closer to her and with her free hand, she forced me to meet her gaze. Her eyes did no change from before. That intense glare seeped into my eyes and I became vulnerable within seconds. I tried to look away but like magnet, our eyes were locked. My hands became lip in her grasp and I let her take control of me.

"Next time think twice before you try to push me," She told me. Before I could protest, she lifted me bridle style and carried me up the stairs. Shocked, I started protesting and flailing my legs wildly but stopped when the pain returned.

"Santana! Let me go!" I persisted, pushing against her but she would not let me free. I hit her with my fists, but she did not free me nonetheless. "Please, let me go!"

"If you don't shut up, I don't mind using other ways to zip your mouth," She said, her teeth gritting. I automatically pursed my lips, not trusting her capabilities.

She walked into her room and then opened the door to her bathroom. Gently, she sat me down on the commode and drew me a bath before giving me my clothes which I assumed she had retrieved from my room.

"Clean yourself. You stink. Change and then go lie on my bed." she ordered. I nodded thoughtlessly. When she left the bathroom and closed the door, I cleaned myself in the tub, wincing as the water touched my open wounds. "It hurts," I whispered to myself.

When I had thoroughly finished cleaning, I struggled putting on my clothes. Once I was entirely done, I limped out of the bathroom and into her bed just as she had instructed. Noticing that she was not sitting at the table, I sat up straining my neck to find her presence.

"I'm right here." She muttered from behind. Santana stood beside the bed with a small bottle in her hand. "Lie down."

I complied to her orders. She went to the edge and took my legs into her lap.

"You don't have to do this," I said softly. She did not reply nor yell. She simply opened the bottle and applied the medicine to my foot. Every now and then my foot would cringe from agony and she would hold it down, softly blowing and caressing the wounds with her hand as if to tell me it would be okay. I relaxed my feet and let her massage it with her hand. "Thank you."

She did not reply to my gratitude either, as if choosing to block out my voice completely. I did not mind her remaining silent. Her silence was not silence. Her silence was a way of communication which could only be apprehended through her eyes and as I squinted to read her expression, I could see the hint of her gentle allowance. I smiled, content over her undeclared magnanimity.

"Sanny!" James yelled from the doorway. I flinched and hastily sat up from my position. "Oh my god, why are you with that bitch?"

Santana sighed, shaking her head. Her complexion altered, tensing in the corner of her eyes. She set my foot on the bed and stood up. "Stop freaking out, will you? And mind your tongue. Do you want me to read a story to you before you go to bed?"

"No, I'm going to tell mommy!" He sprinted away from the door, rapidly going down the staircase. Santana bolted for the door, trying to catch up with him. I watched her run wondering if she intended to rescue me from her mother's hands again.

"Mom! Sanny put the bitch in her bed!" James shouted. Cognizant of what was occurring, I trembled and sat up again. I was in trouble. Serious trouble. She would not spare me this time. I was in her daughter' s clean and luxurious bed.

I still remember her warning me to never go up the staircase. She had said I did not belong there, with her beloved children. I belonged on the lowest ground where my unremitting status was. She would hold me culpable for this reprehensible crime of disobeying her orders. She would accuse me for being ungrateful, spoiled, and bratty. She would not spare me this time.

I saw her figure appear closer and closer, charging down the hallway towards Santana's bedroom. I watched her as she approached me, a wooden batter in her hand. It was covered with some type of liquid. Steam of disseminating from the batter. She must have been mixing hot gravy.

"Mama," I had whispered before I felt the batter strike my arm. I cried out in pain while she struck me incessantly with burning batter. She cursed at me, spit in my hair. When she, at last, broke the batter, she gripped onto my hair and dragged me inside the bathroom.

"You ungrateful brat! I can't believe my husband even took care of you!" She said as she dipped my head in the bathtub filled with bathwater which has gone cold. My eyes closed underwater and I accepted my death. How long would she keep me inside? I did not protest or struggle to breathe in the midst of the suffocating water. I opened my eyes and smiled underwater, waiting patiently until my lungs screamed out for oxygen. Was she so willing to murder me? It didn't matter where I was alive or dead. If she had told me to write a suicide note before killing me, I would have blissfully complied. Mama did not deserve to go to jail. She had suffered enough agony in her life.

What occurred the next minute left me in complete quandary. I felt her grip loosen as my hair fell into the water. I was free from her. I lifted my head to see a bewildered Santana staring at me as I breathed raggedly.

"San" I whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Read through me if you can

The vulnerable expression in disguise

Is it possible for you to understand?

The agony I try so hard to hide..

Over and over again, Santana was mending my wounds, only this time, she applied remedies to my burned skin. I winced repeatedly as her hand gently made circular motions on my arm. I tugged my arm, unable to succumb to the excruciating pain.

"It hurts," I said and she hushed me softly. At last, I gazed up at her expecting to see a stern and apathetic expression, but there was much more. Her eyes were cast down, glinting with untamed rage. Her lips were made into a thin line, refusing to break free from its obstinacy. I could read nothing but her ferocity demonstrated through her unyielding expressions.

"Mama's in pain, that's all." I explained although I knew wholeheartedly that she did not wish to hear it.

"Keep quiet," she snapped. I flinched, but not from pain. Who was I to speak supportively of her mother? She would support her nevertheless.

"I will leave as soon as you let me free," I spoke again. Her eyes moved with speed, directing towards me. I gasped slightly from her bitterness. Her eyes were stone, yet rougher; ice, yet colder. I averted my eyes praying she would look away but she kept staring at me. I could feel her eyes weighing me down.

"If you run, again," she said. "I won't hesitate to take any necessary step."

"Necessary step?"

"Yes-

"Ouch!"

Her index finger pressed into my already blazed skin. I tugged my arm free and blew. She didn't apologize to me, instead she walked away as if she had hurt me on purpose. Did she?

"I will leave-

"Just shut up. I heard you the first time. Clearly, your warnings are not moving me." She told me, her hands deep in her pockets. Her back to me, she glared at me as she turned her face to the side. My cheeks burned from despair. What did she want from me? Why did she want me to stay despite the fact she had the greatest aversion to simply my voice? Why was she helping me when she detested me to such an unremitting extent?

She hated me so much.

She left after she delivered her death stare. I watched her leave, slamming the door tight. I flinched again before laying under the covers.

She hated me so much that she could not even stay in the same room with me.

Along with my arms, my cheeks, my eyes began to burn too, from impending tears. I bit my bottom lip hoping to suppress them but it only worsened the pain. I had forgotten that my lip was bruised just the same. I brought my knees close to my chest, resting my chin in between. Curling myself tightly, I closed my eyes hoping to sleep. I could not. The daunting moments were haunting me. I closed my eyes and remembered my mother, her expressionless face as she succumbed to death. Possibly, for her sake, I had remained so determined though I was in the verge of breaking. She was my fleeting courage. Only when I remembered her, I felt valiant even in the state of decrepitude. She was my mother, my hope. Reminiscing about her, I immediately sat up, dragging my feet down to the floor. I stood up and headed towards the door. My mother would never let me stay here.

If I stayed in her daughter's room, Mama would not leave me. If I stayed, there would be more problems to face. I could not stay.

For the second time, I peeked both ways. She was nowhere in sight. I headed towards the stairs, pursuing a faster alacrity and speed but failing from the immense pain. My heart beat rapidly as I hoped she would not capture me again. She didn't understand that staying in her room had caused her mother to gain such a bad temper. The more I stayed, the worse her temper would get. I had arrived near the steps. I smiled before descending the steps. She could not stop me, now.

"It's pitiful, how desperate you are to leave. In fact, it's pathetic."

I flinched, craning my head to the side to see Santana leaning against the door of James' room. My mouth opened in surprise and I reached out to place a hand over my heart.

"What-you…you…how-

"Surprised? Are you blind? The door is open yet you still can't see me." She laughed…laughed. The first time I finally saw her lips curve up, she was mocking me.

"Why are you so desperate? Afraid of something…someone?" She inquired, inching closer towards me. Her voice was merely a whisper but it crawled through my skin, leaving me breathless and my heart, beating faster than ever before.

"Let me go. You don't have any responsibility towards me." I said with confidence. She rolled her eyes, grinning wider than before.

"Responsibility? You think that's why I'm doing this?"

"Why are you doing this? What does it matter to you if I'm hurt, dead, or helpless?" I interrogated. She pursed her lips, her smile disappearing, replaced firmly with the same bitter glare.

"I owe you no explanation." She told me.

"Then I owe you no reason to leave your room. I'm going. You can't stop me." I limped down the steps slowly. She did not stop me.

"Come on, Brittany." My name escaped from her lips and helplessly I impeded my gait. My stomach fluttered, the butterflies caught in my throat. I swallowed but the butterflies would not subside. My feet remained glued to the ground as if waiting…for what…I did not know. But I waited regardless. "I can't stop you? You can't even walk."

Just then, I felt her feet thump on the ground as I realized that for the second time, she would pick me up over her shoulder. And she did just that.

"Let me go! Or else…or else…I'll scream," I threatened her. Hearing me, Santana stopped…thankfully. I smiled, happy that I had finally won one round of her ploys. But boy was I wrong.

She set me down, pushing me against the wall. She pinned my body tightly against the door, her body only inches away from mine. She pierced her eyes into me as I tried to control my heart's rapid thumping. Santana's hand held on to my waist, holding me firmly so I would not escape. My eyes were wide with fear, refusing to gain normalcy.

"Try me," she whispered.

I was naive, clueless and probably stupid too. I did not know how to think clearly, especially not in front of Santana. She made me breathless, clouding my vision of rationality. Gazing into her intense eyes left me senseless. However, at the same time, she made me furious. Furious, over her lack of respect and lack of discipline. She was aggressive and brutal.

Her words stung me. Her expressions hurt me. Her actions feared me. But most of all, her presence confused me.

So, yes, I was an idiot, making the biggest mistake: I screamed.

Instantly, her lips crashed against mine. Fireworks erupted in my head and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. Santana did not move, nor try to motion me to respond to her lips. Instead she stayed still, her lips puckered against mine. I pushed against her but she would not let me go. Too weak, I gradually appeased. Santana parted her lips from mine, seeing that I had finally become still. My arms limp on my sides, she wrapped them around her neck. I stared at her, her eyes showing no hint of mischief or bitterness. They spoke another language. Santana picked me up in her arms and carried me to her bed bridle style and set me down gently.

I let her cover me with her sheets. Carefully, she tucked in the covers in case the cold air came through. Reaching lightly under my neck, Santana removed the hair so it would not bother me.

She looked into my eyes with care and something I couldn't quite understand...

"Get some sleep Brittany," she told me gently.

She looked at me for a moment more and then left. And as she closed the door, I remembered her expression when she carried me to her bed. She had spoken another language to me. She had uttered an apology…and maybe more...


	4. Chapter 4

The vast blue ocean proves endless

Yet I am drowning eagerly

To find the ultimate deepness

Of its unfound love for me

* * *

"Britt, you missed like half of your classes. Do you know how much trouble you're in?" Quinn scolded.

"Sorry."

"I'm just kidding, Britt. I made copies for you. All you need to do is read through the notes. If you're still confused then I'll let you listen to the records on my phone. Test is on Monday, so no worries. You have the week, including Friday." Quinn patted me on the back before turning straight, facing the front of the classroom, since the teacher had entered the classroom. The teacher looked at me, frowning. Clearly, she did not know why I was absent. Possibly she did not even care. I slumped into my seat, extending my foot so I could hide most of myself behind my desk.

"It doesn't matter. Britt, you should know that. She won't call on you." Quinn assured me quickly before the teacher could see her. Had she been noticed, the teacher would make sure that Quinn was the first person called for her lecture.

To Quinn's surprise, when the lecture began, the first person that was unfortunately called on was me but thankfully I knew the answer. I stood up, my hand shaking from nervousness. I answered her carefully, making sure no information could be criticized harshly or analyzed negatively. There was silence after I had replied to her question. She cleared her throat. The teacher scowled at me again; she didn't break me.

If only she knew that breaking me was as facile as breaking a thin crystal glass. Sensitivity grew in me like a disease, devouring my heart and mind. Sensitivity from pain, love, ambivalence, sympathy, anger, violence…what was it that gave me this uneasy, skittish sensation? What was it that made my heart so inharmonious?

Santana? Was it Santana?

As I sat down in my seat, her face hovered in my vision. I closed my eyes, squeezing them as tightly as possible. I saw her…her face…her wounded face hidden beneath the aggressive surface. The same infuriated face I had seen after she had used her unique method of keeping me calm. It left me confused and even as she put me to bed, I could not remember what happened before I had seen her solemn, agonized expression. I remained in her bed for a few more days.

Once I recovered, she dismissed me from her room so suddenly, I could not demonstrate any sort of gratitude towards her. She was hurried as if impatient with every minute I spent near her. Hence, I simply walked away, like a ghost leaving her haunted past: the reminiscent past which could not find its own resolution. But there laid a difference.

She wasn't my past…

…correction, she isn't my past.

I wished to find her subsequent to me leaving the comfort of her room. She was gone, every day, right before I appeared. I could not inquire her return nor her location, not from my foster mother. She would murder me instantly if I dared to utter one of her kid's names, especially Santana's name; the daughter I had dared to collide with.

Waiting for her appearance could not possibly be so complicated.

What appeared far more complex were my feelings for her. What type of feelings did I possess for her? Gratitude? Yes, it was gratitude. It had to be.

No, it should be anger. That's it, anger was the impeccable sensation to feel towards her. She had stolen my innocence: the essence of my life I had cautiously kept in immense care. Rage was probably the most adequate emotion.

"Are you sleeping?" Quinn poked my arm with her sharp fingernail. I winced in pain, opening my eyes automatically. Surprised, I stood up acknowledging that the lecture had concluded. Quinn and I smiled in unison, as she followed me outside of the class. She began chit-chatting away about the last few days.. I nodded at her words, but floating in my own imagination, I proved incognizant of what she was telling me. So, I did not realize that she had waved me a goodbye and headed off to her next class.

Although it was too late, I waved to her regardless but hastily stopped. I set my arm down to my side, twisting my arm so it was covered: the scars. I wonder if Quinn noticed the burnt marks on my arms. I became so occupied in my imagination that I diminished all thoughts from the past days, including Mama hitting me. How vacant of my mind to forget that I should've covered up my arms. Had anyone noticed them?

I prayed not.

I began walking out of the building. My classes had concluded. Home was waiting for me to enter and face the ultimate wrath of my drunkard foster mother. I heaved a sullen sigh, staring glumly at the green floor.

The next moment I hit something from behind, my vision becoming uncoordinated for a few seconds. My hand flew to my head.

"Hey sis," She said; her voice was raised to a chirpy, unusual tone.

Santana's smell was intoxicating. The gush of chocolate mint, coconut, and a secret ingredient mixed together to create the perfection of all fragrance. When she embraced me from behind, it was her strong scent which had awakened my senses. I flinched against her but she squeezed my shoulder confidently as if confirming that it was she, the exception to any stranger randomly enveloping me in their arms.

"Santana," I whispered. The eyes of wayfarers turned to me before some continued walking or continued staring. She did not let go. Santana only adjusted her arm so it was right above my waist, her strong hands wrapping around my body like it was meant to be there. It fit just right.

My stomach squeezed and tied into an impenetrable knot. I instinctively gasped from her touch. Her fingers were burning me even though my clothing. I put my own hand over her, hoping to remove it.

"How are you getting home?" She asked loudly so that more passer-by's impeded their steps.

"Leave me," I muttered dangerously. My cheeks were flustered and I hid from the numerous eyes staring me down. My eyes moved to the floor of the campus, nervously counting the grasses that were unusually longer than the others.

"What's that? You want me to give you a ride?" She shouted. "No problem. Let's go home."

Santana dragged me straight across the campus, her arm still lingering on my waist. She headed to the parked Mercedes. Opening the passenger door, she shoved me into the seat next to the driver's. She went around and sat in the driver's seat, starting the car almost immediately. She wasted no time before she moved into the road. Santana was taking me home.

"Why?" I sniffed. Tears were streaming down my eyes. She heard me sniff consistently but did not move her eyes towards me as she drove.

"I do not owe you anything, remember?"

My heart fluttered inconsistently from hearing her normal voice once again…that same tone which she spoke to me the previous night I had seen her. While the cars stopped for the red light, she put on her seatbelt. I watched her hoping to hear more of her words, her explanation. Instead she extended her hand past me and pulled in the seat belt strap for me. Santana clicked it into place and turned back to her original space, driving away as the light changed.

Like before, I spoke no more words. Silently, she drove and silently, I sat. When we, at last, came home, she parked the car. Removing her strap, she reached into the backseat to retrieve both of our bags. Santana pressed the button for my seatbelt, dragging it back into place. I sat like stone not motioning anything. Her hand did not move from the seatbelt strap, so it awkwardly hovered over my shoulder.

"I need to lock the car B. So can you like get out?" She told me. My heart fluttered at the nick name and I gulped before nodding. Paying no heed to her hand which was still extending out, I opened the door and abruptly exited from the car, causing her hand to be pushed aside. I watched as it hit against the A/C vent of the car then proceeded to walk further down to our house. I heard her groan from pain but I continued to walk nonetheless. I needed to get away from her. She was confusing me.

I walked fast and quick to avoid her but as I neared the porch, her hand gripped around my elbow violently pulling me to her. I almost knocked my head on hers and immediately looked down. Santana lifted my chin aggressively, forcing me to meet her eyes. I involuntarily met her icy glare. When I attempted to close my eyes, she shook me. I began to whimper from pain and fear. Santana did not show any concern however. She pushed me against the door so she could get a better hold on me. Santana moved her face closer to me, the proximity dangerously reducing. Her cheeks touched mine and I felt her lips brush against my earlobe. I breathed sharply.

"Think twice before you run away from me again B," She whispered into my ear huskily. I swallowed the lump in my throat unable to digest her words. She released me the next second and smirked at me for a second and then moved inside the house. I stood there motionless for a moment more and then somehow managed to enter the house too. Santana slammed the door shut behind me.

Mama stood near the kitchen entrance. Following my sight of line to the enraged Santana, she stared suspiciously at me. Her face grew furious and I knew that running could possibly be the best solution. Yet, my legs remained unmoved although my hands shook fiercely. She charged towards me, her hand ready to strike me. I prepared myself, apologizing before everything would black out in a second. When my inner light flipped its switch, I did not cry. How strange, is it not?

Strange that the tears were there a few moments ago. My eyes moved towards Santana who had stopped ascending the staircase. She was looking at me with a wide, terrified expression. Her dilated eyes searched mine; her feet moving at the opposite direction from where she had intended to go. I looked away speedily, the tears returning.

Pity. I needed no explanation from her because all she felt for me was immense sympathy. I stood up and walked away from her and her mother who bewilderingly watched me go. I never walked away when she abused me, but this moment was more than her ill-fated abuse. It extended far and into her daughter's abuse of my emotions that once rested in peace…claimed never to be awoken.

Into the kitchen I went. The kitchen was quiet, my placid place of thinking. I looked behind me to see if mama had followed me. Thankfully, she did not.

Relieved, I sighed closing my eyes from the tranquillity that rushed through me in that precise moment. I was wrong for believing in her for even a second. How idiotic could I have gotten? Her pity was the only thing empowering her cruelty. Had she not seen me sprawled on the floor that day, Santana would never have helped me.

I was better off alone, in the darkness of my own melancholy. No one could invade into my isolation. I was grateful for that because probably this loneliness was my everlasting solace. I leaned against the cold fridge, keeping my eyes shut close. But I felt the peculiar coldness hitting against my skin. I touched the back of my shirt. Was I bleeding again?

My finger hooked onto the hole in the back of my blouse. Shocked, I turned my head and pulled my shirt closer so I could see it. The hole was huge. It was ripped so half of my waist could be seen.

"She was covering the hole." I thought out loud.

"You were going to find out sooner or later. Too bad you're not stupid." Her voice send shivers down my spine but the shivers were usually never from fear. So, even I was surprised to find myself smiling up at her as I turned to face her small figure leaning against the fridge, right next to me.

"Thank you," I told her, nodding my head. She chuckled sarcastically.

"I'm selfish. I have my reasons. Don't thank me. It's useless B." Santana stated with a glint in her eye. The smile disappeared as I blushed at the nickname but I thanked her a second time. Santana had a smirk on her a face and a hint of a smile on her lips. I could feel my heart fluttering and I started walking backwards, still staring at her face. It was better to walk away.

But when her tiny smile changed its course, turning into a massive grin of pure mischief, I was caught off guard. I missed a step and slipped.

She caught me, like before…like always. Santana never let me fall and she did not let me go. With her hand around my waist; her face close to mine; her body dangerously brushing against me, I could not stop my own mind from replaying the unexpected kiss she had given me. I closed my eyes tightly, attempting to retrieve the vision again when I felt her fingers brush against my face. I opened my eyes and watched her eyes twinkling as if it had found its enchantment. She looked straight into my eyes and softly caressed my cheeks. There were so many emotions in those endless deep brown eyes and I felt myself getting lost in those mocha orbs. Her fingers did not stop wandering however. It traced the bottom of my chin, escaping to my lips .

Unconsciously, she licked her lips as she trailed around the edges of my lips. I parted my lips while her lips crept closer. She moved her fingers away, and cupped my face.

"Close your eyes," she spoke softly. I complied.

Then, she leaned in and closed the distance between our lips. She kissed me again except this time it was deeper, softer…it was like a new level of intimacy. I could feel thousand butterflies erupting inside me as I kissed her back. My heart swelled in my chest as she pulled me impossibly close to her. I inhaled through my nose because I didn't wanna break contact. She put both her hands on my face as she deepened the kiss and I wrapped my arms around her. We stayed like that for what felt like hours.

We kissed unconsciously.


	5. Chapter 5

Remember reading the imperfect, visible scars

Detesting the reflection of the you in the mirror

Yet when she appears, the one in a million of stars

The marks disappear as she mends your state of terror

* * *

Steadily, with Santana's hand against my back, she helped me stand up straight from my potential fall. Her lips did not part from mine however. As if somehow attached with a newfound connection, we were one. My mind was disconnected with any sense of logic. What I felt was the tingling in my toes, the fluttering in my stomach, and the goose bumps on my arms. It wasn't the fearful feeling which left you in a regretful state. God, no, I was in Pleasure Paradise with an addicting, exotic sensation devouring my senses completely. If I could ever feel regretful at this situation, it would only be to end it sooner.

But it wasn't right. It was immorally incorrect. The best action to take in this situation was to end this as soon as possible. She was my sister, related or not. I could not kiss my own sister. It was probably the most disgusting occurrence that could happen. I was a sinner breaking the rules of the society. I had to resist the senseless hypnosis from controlling my rationale. If exposed, I could not confront even the strangers of society.

So, I pushed against Santana with my tight fists which clasped on its own when the butterflies had made its way through my boiling veins. It left me breathless, the emotions he awakened inside me. It left me numb, so numb that I wished not to awake from the feeling of Santana's touch against my skin. Yet, I had to abandon these terrible, sinful emotions from dominating me.

What mattered most was to keep my dignity intact, my already complicated life organized. Nothing else mattered. I could not risk Mama seeing this disturbing situation. She would leave me a corpse, if she must, to find this detestable sight. And if she were to miraculously free me from her wrath, it was I that would murder Brittany. I had no right to live with a tainted reputation especially when no one watched me without the tiniest globule of rancour.

I moaned against her lips, signalling her to leave me; but she did not listen. Instead as my lips parted to breathe, she kissed me deeper. Effortless, Santana resolved the incapable: she brought me to a heightened state of pure ecstasy. And so easily, I had lost the ability to reason.

I loved the feeling she gave me as her hands trailed around my waist, caressing it so carefully. I loved the kisses of her fingers pecking against my back as it trickled down my spine. I loved her soft lips giving me open-mouth kisses. She brought me to a state of weakness. I was incapable of believing that one can make another feel so…beautiful.

But I hated the feeling of kissing my sister. I attempted to break away again; Santana pinned me against the wall. Her expert hand moved against my waist, softly massaging the area I never knew existed. She squeezed and I yelped against her lips. My eyes opened to find her hazy ones. Her glazed eyes searched mine while her lips curved to grin at my unpredictable posture. Santana stared at me, moving her hand from my waist and trailing up my bare arm towards my neck. As I closed my eyes, My heart racing with immense speed. She traced my collarbone. I tried to breathe but breathing became so impossibly difficult. My breath came out in sharp gasps; I bit my lip to stop my rapid heartbeat.

I felt her eyes watching my skittish movement. The person she was, she made everything far worse than possible. Santana's hand dangerously trailed down my neck; I abruptly reached to stop her hand, my eyes opening from surprise. She was still grinning.

"W-what are you-" I stammered. Did I forget how to speak?

"I wouldn't even if you told me to," Santana spoke, her husky voice sounding even raspier than usual. My chest fluttered to hear her voice.

"Why not?" I asked, offended. I instantly bit my lip realizing my own question. She smirked wider. Santana looked at me once before closing in on me. Her cheek touched against my blazing cheeks. She leaned in so her lips touched my earlobe.

"Would you like me to B?" She asked as her hands, once again, trailed down towards my cleavage. I tried to hold her hand but failed.

"San," I uttered. She rubbed her cheek against mine, kissing my earlobe. I took in a sharp breath, the tingling returning except it had made its way through my entire body. Santana stopped her hand before it could reach any further. Instead she brought her hands to my cheeks, caressing it with her thumb.

"You're so beautiful Britt," she hummed before nipping my earlobe. My hands clutched against her shirt and I tried desperately to breathe for air. Almost suddenly, Santana's lips slammed against mine and again, we were kissing like before. Only this time, I was kissing her too. My hands which had clutched onto her wrinkled top, reached up, over her clothing, to her chest; towards her neck; and then to her face.

As if hungry, she brought me closer, terminating the distance we had between us. My back arched to allow her more access. Her lips moved more aggressively and I complied willingly.

"You're making me so…damn…crazy B," she muttered against my lips.

"I'm sorry," I said thoughtlessly. She chuckled, breaking away to look at me.

"Don't be sorry B," she told me, running her finger against the outline of my face. She ran her fingers through my hair. "You really are beautiful."

She bent down to kiss my forehead. I smiled at her.

"It's my mom. She was really beautiful," I said to her. She nodded, agreeing. She looked at my features for a second before moving her hand away.

"It hurts right here B," she pointed to her heart. "when my mother beats you, hurts you. Look, your cheek is red because of her."

Her cold hand touched my cheek which was unusually red from Mamma's slap. My cheek seething from her touch, I winced.

"It's not that bad." I pretended, but she had already seen me flinch.

"How can you say that Britt?" She inquired. Her eyebrows furrowed and her expression changed to ferocity. "It's not right. Fuck, she hits you like you're a punching bag and she's the merciless boxer."

Santana's teeth gritted, her hands shaking as it brushed against my arm. She gently picked up my hand, bringing it up to her face. Softly, Santana placed her lips on my hand. My toes curled while my heart missed a beat.

"It's not right," she mumbled. I smiled, shaking my head.

"It's okay. She's my mother now." I assured her. Santana looked at me with blankness.

"Mother?"

"Yes. She's my mother and you're my-"

"I'm your sister?" She looked at me as if she was disgusted. "Is that what you think? You're kissing your sister?"

"N-no."

"Then why did you kiss me?"

"You kissed me." I retaliated. "Why did you kiss me?"

She pursed her lips. Santana's eyes returned to its original state: brute and stern.

"well I sure didn't kiss you as a sister." She dropped her hands from me and walked away without looking back.

I watched her back turn: her figure disappearing from the kitchen entrance. I heard her feet thump against the floor. I heaved a sigh, leaning against the wall. I closed my eyes as I touched my mouth remembering her lips against mine.

"Why did you kiss me, San?"


	6. Chapter 6

A/N

Hey guys.. I read the reviews that said that this is a tad disturbing coz of the abuse. i know it's a bit sad. i'm sad too coz i love Brittany and it makes me sad when she's sad. but it will get better. i promise.. and as for the one that asked if it's like incest no it's not incest. they're not related by blood..they are both adopted. anyway hope you guys enjoy the chapter. R&R :)

* * *

_Irresistible love can be undeniably forbidden_

_Do not shy away from this enchanting essence_

_For as easily it enters, as easily it is overridden_

_By the unyielding barriers of this coalescence_

* * *

To distract myself, I decided to clean the dishes on the counter. I did not wish to leave the kitchen knowing mama must be standing outside, waiting for my return. As for Santana I must forget her amiable existence. This would be my ultimate resolution. I could not expect her to save me every time, considering it was her mother of all the people who mistreated me. mama loved her daughter as much as Santana loved her. I could not be the barrier in between a mother and her child, as one detested me and another saved me. Besides, what did it matter? As long as I isolated myself from mama, I need not concern for anything. I just had to keep my distance.

But I should have known that after leaving mama in such a state, there was no way she would spare my life. She was far too obstinate too stubborn to allow such defeat on her part. The mama, I knew would never leave me safe. Just as expected, she strutted into the kitchen, her hands on her hips. She would not spare me today. It was clear. I smelled the alcohol stench escaping from her body. The odor was overwhelming and disgusting.

"How dare you walk out on me?"She spoke quietly. I suppressed my urge to vomit. The reek was making me queasy. I felt her voice creep up my spine, grasping me dis-comfortingly. I gasped from hearing her atrocious voice.

"I just- I thought you d want me to cl-clean these.."

"Shut up. Just shut up!" Her voice grew louder. mama slowly walked towards me, her fingers scraping across the kitchen table. I inched further into the corner, turning off the faucet. The soap was lathered in my hands as I held the sullied plate.

"This is your true colors, isn t it? That whole innocence is all an act. Isn t it?" She gripped onto my arm, pulling me forward. Her long nails dug into my naked skin, causing blood to ooze through. I winced while tears stung my eyes. They trickled down helplessly. She watched my eyes carefully, laughing as I began to miserably whimper .

"Tears. That s what you buy people with. That s what you use! Tears! You re messed up, innocent face! You manipulate them! You manipulated my husband, now my Daughter?" mama s voice were ear piercing. Her deafening shrill penetrated through the walls and the ground. I flinched from her vicious voice. mama waited no more before she pushed me into the wall, my head slamming against the concrete. I whimpered louder but did not scream hoping that Santana could not hear what was occurring in the kitchen. It was humiliating for her to always find me in such fragile state where I had no choice but acquiesce to her every demand.

I did not wish the world to know her ill treatment of me especially Santana. She was gone. She had disappeared into the shadow of the entrance, never to look at me again. I had called her my sister, disgusted her with my thoughtless actions inconsiderate behavior. She would not save me again. Why would she? I was merely a nuisance living under the same room. My presence was overbearing, eating her senses up in the worst way possible. My own disappearance would give her placid serenity.

"Answer me! Is that your wicked plan, to capture my daughter in your enchantment and cause her to kill herself?" She took my hand and swung me towards the refrigerator. My shoulder hit against the handle. I sensed the pang of needles shooting through me. There would be a bruise soon.

When I had barely regained my poise, I watched from the corner of my eye. As her eyes met mine, she pulled my hair back and slapped me across the cheek.

"I didn t kill Papa!" I shouted, impatience overriding my composure. "I didn t kill him! I loved him!"

"That was it! The problem! You loved him! You ruined him!"

mama struck me across the other cheek, crashing my head to the ground. The crimson blood dripped down my forehead. I attempted to lift my head up, but the wooziness overpowered my senses. In seconds, I would be knocked out, probably dead if I was lucky enough.

"Get up, dammit!" She screamed. I could not get up. Too feeble, I dragged my head to the side moaning from pain. "No, no. Lie there! That s where you should be. On the ground. In the ground, where your dead mother is."

mama scoffed, stepping on my fingers. I cried out in pain, bringing my fingers closer to me as she lifted her feet. Her heavy steps vibrated the floor, steadily growing fainter which signaled her departure. The floor trembled from another pair of feet which neared slowly at first, and then faster.

Her breathing was ragged, but she picked me up carefully in her strong arms. I opened my eyes to see the pursed lips, and then the stony eyes. Santana moved rapidly, her steps swift enough so I could be hastily safe in her room again. I watched her through half-lidded eyes. Santana s expression did not change from before: the same anger boiling through her complexion. Yet, there was something more. There was worry, anxiety, an awkward edginess tipping her over. She stole speedy glances at me to study the damage done to me. My eyes ran down her face to her neck. She was swallowing continuously.

"Why are you helping me?" My voice escaped with a cracked sound, like a croaking frog.

"I owe you no explanation Brittany", She repeated through gritted teeth. "Stop asking me the same question over and over. You sound like a broken record."

She seemed bitter in her reply. Santana looked towards me again, but only to shoot me a deathly glare.

I perceived her eyes realizing that Santana was hiding the concern from her voice, but it showed evidently in her eyes. Tears were threatening to spill from her still eyes. She gulped again, swallowing down the lump in her throat. What could be apprehending her so gravely?

"Y-you shouldn t help me," I stuttered. The dimness was gently closing in. I would soon faint from dizziness.

"Stop talking Brittany. You re irritating me." Santana snapped hoarsely. She was trying to mask her emotions. I observed her refusing to move my eyes away from hers. Her emotions were raw, ready to burst from the cage. It was untamed, a great surge of sentiments piled in only to release altogether.

She was hiding from me. She was hiding from herself.

"No you-"

"I said shut up Brittany. Just-"

"Listen, please San." I begged. I needed to speak the truth before it was too late. The emotions inside me were just as raw as hers. They were wild and feral, refusing to listen to the inner me. There was a savage, pernicious beast inside, so iniquitous that the sins it would readily cause me to commit would leave me lamenting forever. But it was hurting me to stifle them. I had to let the restless feelings relieve from my heart.

"Fine. tell me then." She told me sternly.

"You shouldn t help me," I repeated. "Because I may fall for you."

There was immense silence subsequent to my statement. I had caused her to rethink her actions. Santana set me down on her bed. She disappeared into the bathroom for a while before coming back with a first aid kit. With care, Santana sat next to me so as to clean my bruises.

For the second time, I had entered her room as she dressed my new wounds. Her hand reached to my face, sensibly brushing against my forehead. Santana winced as I winced, cleaning the blood even slower than before. She wanted me to be safe and secure, without the ill sensation of the violent blows her mother delivered me. I sat silently, permitting her to aid me, but I knew that even if I resisted her help, she would help me forcefully. She was aggressive and stubborn as well.

"Say something, San" I urged, my voice merely a whisper. My head was still spinning.

"I don't know what to say Brittany," She said softly. Santana looked at me, turning my face so I could see her more comfortably. She studied me while she applied medicine to my cleaved skin and secured the healing wounds with bandages. I looked away, feeling overwhelmed by her bitter gaze. When she was done, she slowly pushed me down to her bed so I was lying vertically. Rest.

"I can't stay." I told her, my voice cracking again. Weakly, I lifted myself up. I sensed the surge of blackness hit me, causing me to loose my balance. I fell to the side and onto the floor. However, she reached within time to catch me before I fell.

"Stay here for a while B, please." She pleaded softly.

"You don't understand, do you?" It was my time to glare at her now. "If I stay, she will only hurt me more."

"She won't hurt you. I am here." She was surprised to see my eyes piercing with anger.

"She will hurt me because you are here!" I cried. The returning tears streamed down my sizzling cheeks. I pushed her aside, standing up so I could move towards the door.

"Let me protect you B." She urged taking my hand in hers. Santana pulled me towards her so I was trapped in her grasp.

"I can't. She's right. I have to stay.."

"She's not right B! She s wrong! She's so fucking wrong about everything, about you. How could you even think that she's correct. She hurts you. And that for the damn wrong reasons. It's..."

"Ssh." I covered her lips with my finger, closing my eyes to regain composure. I took her hand which was wrapped firmly around my waist and removed it. "I can't stay with you, Santana. And it's more than your mother. There is something wrong between us. Something very wrong. I can't let it keep happening."

"Or else, what? You may fall for me?" She inquired smirking, putting her hand on my waist once again. She pulled me even closer so that our lips were inches apart. I nodded, trying to exhale carefully but it was all in vain. I was breathless from the beginning.

Santana laughed out loud, glaring at me with such intensity that I grew desperate to look away but she forced me to see her regardless.

"Brittany," she cooed. Her lips moved to my ear as her hand rested on my chest. I tried to remove it but she firmly held it there.

She knew. She knew how my heart beats for her, how my mind grows restless. She knew everything. "You've already fallen for me B."

I shook my head. "No, no I haven't."

Santana s hand trailed up my neck securing it from the back.

"Yes you have B. There is no other relation except love and desire between us. Your eyes give you away, Britt. No matter how hard you try to hide the truth, everything is against you. Your heart, your mind, your eyes your lips.."

She trailed off as she grew closer to my lips. Her lips softly brushed against mine and I returned her gesture almost automatically.

"No matter how hard you run away, these feelings will keep coming back," she said against my lips. She moved her hand down to my arm, intertwining our fingers together. I resisted but she did not surrender.

"Right now.,right about now, the tips of your fingers are tingling as your toes are too." She purred into my ear. She grazed her lips against my ear and I leaned in willing. I could not repel her any longer.

"Your heart is beating so fast that I can hear it." She whispered as her hand traced back to my heart, making small circles on my chest.

"Your pulse is so rapid that you can feel your entire body vibrating from my touch," Santana hummed against my neck where she kissed the softest, most sensitive part: my drumming pulse. I arched my head back from her kiss, feeling the pleasure riding through my veins. Stealthily, she was making me forget the pain of my wounds and the concern for mama s impending abuse. And naively, I submitted to her failing to recall how to impede my untamed emotions.

Once I found my voice, I opened my mouth to speak, "Stop it San, please stop."

"Tell me, Britt." She ignored me. "Are these feeling so surreal?" She stopped her ministration and finally met my eyes.

"Yes."

"Shall I prove you wrong again B?" She asked, brushing her lips against the nape of my neck. I shuddered.

"These feelings are not right San," I answered.

"Why not B?" She asked.

"You are..."

"I'm your sister. Is that it or is it coz we're two girls?"

"You're my sister."

I agreed waiting for her to snap at me again and walk away like she did before. Instead she gripped me tighter, if possible. Then, she lifted my chin aggressively. I winced from pain. She softened her hold on me, realizing that I was still sore from mama s cruelty.

"We are related by a piece of paper B. No family history. No blood connection." She caressed my cheek with her thumb.

"To society-"

"I'm not your fucking sister B. I don't care about a stupid piece of paper or the supposed society." She told me, tracing the line of my jaw.

Santana looked at me a second more before placing me in her bed. "just rest for now. When you're feeling better, you can leave. But leave subtly.:

She walked to the door, opening it to leave her room. I watched her go.

She stopped for a moment to look at me and then spoke very soothingly so that I could barely hear her. "Baby, if I am anything I am yours...simply yours."


	7. Chapter 7

Even denying your great love for me

Or masking the immense pain you feel

Can never truly set you free

Since a broken heart can never heal

* * *

"What is this? You're completely lathered in chocolate!" Mama eyed James with disgust. "And we're leaving in half an hour! Great! Isn't that just great?!"

She threw her hands up in surrender. Mama plopped into the couch for a few minutes, then glared at me, her eyes altering from anxiousness to bitterness. I inched closer to the wall, hoping to escape her uncomfortable glare.

"You caused this, didn't you?! Didn't I tell you to take care of him?!" She stood up only to pull my ponytail, yanking it mercilessly. I yelped from the sudden displeasure. The impending tears returned, stinging my eyes. Carelessly, she pushed me towards the staircase.

"Go clean him now, in thirty minutes. Quick! Now!" She demanded through gritted teeth. Mama shoved me forward with her hands gesturing me to take James upstairs and dress him. Reluctantly, I nodded and took James to his room in submission. He skipped up the staircase, consistently blocking my way and making it harder for me to climb from both sides of the staircase. I heaved a fatigued sigh but suppressed the urge to complain. Arguing with James would only entitle Mama to abuse me more.

"What would you like to wear, James?" I cheerfully inquired after we had reached his room. He brushed past me and sat down on his bed.

"She said you have to dress me up. Why are you asking me? Are you an idiot?" He began to bounce annoyingly on the bed causing irritating squeaky sounds to emerge. In frustration, I exhaled another deep breath and subsequently prepared a wet towel in his bathroom. Once I was done soaking the towel, I came back to find he had smudged chocolate all over his silky bed sheets. I bit my lip from frustration succumbing to my conscious urging me to be patience.

"Let me clean you up," I pleaded heading towards James. He bounced away grinning as his legs flopped up into the air and down onto the dirty bed. Had it not been obvious enough, this was going to be challenging. But wasn't it always? He was similar to his dear mother, set on loathing me for the rest of my atrocious life. His aversion towards me was incomprehensible, impossible to infer what purpose he possessed in detesting me.

Yet, then I would recall the moments I would walk into the living room to find the two whispering. I heard my name several times in their hushed conversations. Almost readily, I concluded that she was giving him another reason to resent me. She fed him poisonous words that would only hurt me in effect. And as the contaminated poison seeped through his skin, it resulted in wounding me.

Unfortunately, I could not control the situations, antagonizing me, even if my heart howled for clemency. Not even this situation.

"Please," I begged. He stuck his tongue out in protest, which was tainted a sullied color from the chocolate. "All right then. How about we choose your clothes."

I set the wet cloth down on the dressing table before opening up his wide, spacious closet which reached more than a yard into the darkness of the closet. My hands ruffled through the clothes, selecting and discarding what appealed and displeased.

"Isn't this beautiful?" I asked holding up a sky blue shirt. James scrunched up his nose, still bouncing, and rapidly averted his gaze with pure ode. I frowned then moved to another rack. It was apparent; he was never going to approve anything I chose.

"Your choices are as ugly as you," he remarked. I gave him a genuine smile before ruffling through more of his clothes. If I depicted any negativity in my face, he would not spare me from his mother's hands. Although I had inured to her cruelty, her assault still hurt me and still frightened me.

"Then you pick," I welcomed. He jumped off the bed and headed towards my direction. As I skimmed through his myriad of clothing, he stood in deep thought moving his eyes along with the clothing.

"I like this one," he declared. James touched the same sky blue shirt I had selected a few minutes ago. Perplexed, I stared at him in disbelief.

"But I-

"I told you, you make the clothes you choose as ugly as you," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. I bit my lip, ordering my self to evade his request for my negativity.

"What's going on here?"

James and I both turned to the door where Santana stood against the wall. She glanced at me apathetically before walking to James. She smiled magnanimously, resting her hands on James's small shoulders.

"Mom's complaining so much. We don't want to get on her bad side, right? Why don't you go to bathroom and get ready," she explained slowly. Santana pushed him gently towards the bathroom. With pure reverence, James looked at his big sister. He nodded and then headed into the bathroom. I exhaled a relieved sigh; then I occupied myself with picking up the garments James had thrown purposefully on the ground so I would have more to clean. My hands slipped as I attempted to put the shirt sleeves into the hanger. I used the opportunity to glance at her from the side.

She was watching me.

My hands slipped continuously as I nervously tried to organize James's closet. The palms of my hands were clamped with sweat. When had she begun to make me so anxious?

Internally, I knew that I was blissful to finally see her after two excruciating and lonely days. Once she left me in her bed that day, I successfully sneaked out and into my bedroom. Truthfully, I did not know how to respond to her proposal. In fact, I could not apprehend whether or not it was truly a proposal to be her lover. As I watched her leave that day, I became utterly discombobulated over her last words. The Santana I knew would never say the words she had spoken towards me. Maybe,just maybe…she was only teasing me. But the Santana I knew would never tease or joke either. She was a serious, indifferent woman with immense arrogance and nonchalance for those around her.

On my toes, I reached into the closet to rest the hanger on the handle, but because it went even further inside, my height prevented me from reaching it. I glanced a second time at Santana who did not lift away her eyes from me. I bit my lip, suddenly realizing how rapid my heartbeat was. My conscious struggled to regain its cognizance of my surroundings.

Almost stealthily, she came around and behind me. I swallowed wondering if she had decided to finally sit instead of standing to stare at me. I had almost reached the open space where I could dangle the hanger, but my hand slipped again. Yet before my hand descended downwards she covered her hand with mine.

"You can ask for help Britt. It won't kill you." Santana whispered into my ear. Her breath tickled my neck. "You know, you could've just stepped inside the closet. It would've been so much easier to hang the shirt."

Even as she was proving a complete idiot, my mind was circulating from dizziness as my pulse amplified its pattern. She was too close. Way too close.

Santana gripped onto my hand and brought it upwards, dangling the hanger which I was struggling with.

"Thank you," I responded. She did not leave my hand. Instead her hand tightened, bringing it close to my chest.

"So?" She said. My breath hitched in my throat. I began to wonder if she was purposefully whispering so close to my ear. I felt her lips brush against my skin. The goosebumps immediately followed. "You never replied. It's been two days. How much longer shall I wait for your decision?"

She snaked her other arm around my waist, gently pulling my closer to her chest. I did not protest. I could not. I had already lost my consciousness. I inhaled a steady breath but it was too short to intake. It emerged as gasps, my heart fluttering from her gentle hand movement around my hips. She was caressing me now.

"I'm waiting," She spoke huskily.

"N-no." I managed to speak hoarsely.

"No?" She moved her face away from mine, pulling me back. My eyes fluttered, recognizing my position and surroundings. I was supposed to be dressing James.

"I'm done, San!" James shouted from the bathroom. I heard the bathroom click. He was exiting from the bathroom. I tried to push Santana away as quickly as possible, but Santana who still had her arms tightly around me, dragged me into the closet. She closed the door and covered my lips with her hand. With the other, she pressed her index finger against her own. Threateningly, she shook her head gesturing me to remain mute.

"Sanny!" James called. His light footsteps fainted into the hallway, thudding down the staircase. "Are you downstairs?"

"You were saying'" She continued, removing her hand from my lips.

"Santana, let me go. You can't just lock me up in a closet and expect me to-

"I expect you to listen to what I say and answer to what I ask." She stated firmly.

"I expect you to let me go. I already gave you my answer." I pushed against her, looking for the handle of the closet. It was too dark to find a black handle.

"State your reason," She spoke sternly.

"My reason? You already heard it several times. I would rather not repeat my words," I told her. Even in the darkness, her eyes were twinkling with bitter rage. My heart skipped another beat threatening to succumb to Santana.

"Our legal relationship? Is that it? It's just a-

"It's not just a stupid paper, Santana. It's actually a paper that everyone else in the world follows by, except you probably. This paper entitles us to be sisters. Admit it or not because of the power you have, but I don't possess your power. I cannot manipulate the press or the media like I wish to. I have no control, no power, no money. Maybe to the world I do. But I am simply a poor girl living in your basement, forced to stay because I have no money to move out. And I surely don't have the power to manipulate the media to comply with our new relationship of siblings to lover." My chest was swiftly moving up and down as my breath emerged in deep sighs. Tears had made its way in my eyes. My heart refused to acquiesce to my simple request of at least managing to look indifferent. The anger, pain, desire, love I felt at that moment was lucid in my complexion. Gratefully, she could not see me but could she sense my conflicted emotions?

"If this paper is worth so much recognition, then I will not be a nuisance any longer. I will leave you to your own presence." She said. Santana opened the closet door and breezed out of the room…marking the first moment she listened to me.

I slowly walked away from James's room waiting until the three had left home before going into the basement. In all honesty, I felt disappointed in her response. What I expect did not occur. She had proved me wrong in comprehending who she really was. I wished for her to persist, to soothe my worries and tell me that if the world was our antagonist, we would confront it with complete determination. She would protect me from harm's way and shower me with luminosity as long as I vowed to believe in Santana.

I shook my head, trying to relieve my mind of her. I did not desire to mourn over the incident nor struggle with understanding Santana. I wished to be relieved of the discomfort riding through me.

I decided to take a shower…in Santana's room. Running water would comfort me, purify my poisoned mind.

She would not return sooner than an hour. If I took half an hour, I did not have to worry for her awaited presence. I quickly collected my clothes and ran into the shower, scrubbing fast and hastily putting water over me. Once I was done, I wrapped the towel around me, applying lotion onto my body.

When finished, I reached for my clothes on the stand but realized I had left them downstairs. My own stupidity was amazing me. But I chose to not panic. What did I have to concern for? I still had thirty more minutes in my hand. I cleaned the bathroom hurriedly. Once I was done, I transpired from the shower room only to discover a very naked girl straddling Santana in her bed. I blinked several times hoping the sullied scene in front of me was my histrionic imagination.

My heart impeded for a few seconds as time stood still though I heard her clock ticking away. This was real…as real as it possibly could be. She peeked out from the side of the girl and observed me apathetically, like before. The girl turned towards me too, grinning from ear to ear.

"San baby. Who is this girl?" She asked Santana, caressing her neck. When I gulped, I felt the lump in my throat threatening to bring tears to my eyes for the third time today. To tell truth, I could never learn to grasp the situation in front of me: how to handle it or how to even comprehend it? Thus, I did simply what my heart cried for…I ran away clutching onto the white towel wrapped lazily around my body.

I smiled from self pity. I was right. Though I did not wish to be, I was right.

I could never have been so correct in my prediction. She had played so well, this game…with my naive, gullible heart. Even though I should have recognized her devilish instinct, I succumbed to her every tease, her every ministration as if the superficial love she felt for me was as real as my true love for her. In the end, I admit, what resulted was my blame.

After several minutes of running, I realized that I had been shedding unnoticed tears through my swift journey towards my dull bedroom, the basement of the shoddy Brittany. And in a towel that, it seemed, I had permanently clutched onto was my napkin for the tears I began to endlessly shed. And all the while, I muttered incriminatingly:"I should have known."

"How pitiful? You're looking more blue than green." She commented. I felt fear in craning my neck to see the figure I truly did not wish to see.

"I believe you told me only a few moments ago that you would leave me. Have you learned to break promises too?" I muttered coldly. Yet, the most fear I sensed was in looking into her eyes. What would I see?

"Leave you? No, how could I? I have finally discovered your true self." Her footsteps vibrated the floor. I clasped my hands together in her anticipation. "Turn around, Britt."

I closed me eyes, squeezing them tighter. I feared her. I feared the impact she had on me.

Santana's hand wrapped around my waist picking me up and setting me against the hard wall. Blindly, I attempted to escape but I hit her arm instead.

"Please, Santana," I uttered, whimpering endlessly.

"Open your eyes, Brittany." She ordered. Then, hesitantly, my eyes fluttered open. Her eyes held no mischief and no amusement. Her eyes held the same rage but with the hint of intensity. I quickly looked away but she urged me to look again.

"You were supposed to come after an hour," I whispered.

"Where is it hurting?" She asked me, ignoring my statement. I gazed into her eyes with confusion.

"I'm not hurt." I stated.

"You were crying, Britt. Tell me where it hurts," She cajoled.

"Nowhere," I replied, averting my gaze again. She chuckled sarcastically.

"Liar. I know where it hurts." She whispered. Her hand brushed against my chest, resting on my heart. "It must be hurting a lot."

"Stop it, please." I asked her. What game did she want to play now? Her intentions were impossible to know. Impossible to figure out. I was too tired, too fatigued to try again.

"Stop, what? How did it feel? Watching me kiss that girl?" She inquired, searching my eyes for answers.

"You kissed her?" My voice was broken at this point, arising with pure dejection. "You k-kissed her?"

She grinned at me.

"It's so clear, Britt…how much you love me." She said softly. I looked away from her.

"I don't-

"Then, let me kiss you. If you don't feel anything, don't respond. Simple."

She did not wait for my approval. Her lips touched mine, gently probing them open. Santana's hands possessively gripped onto my waist, pulling me closer…as close as I could be. I moaned against her lips, struggling to ignore the rush of blood through my veins, the pounding pulse, the wild heartbeat, the tingles in the tips of my fingers…the pleasurable sensation traveling through my body. I gasped from the heavenly bliss and I submitted to Santana, the greatest mistake in my mind and the greatest desire in my heart. She smiled against my lips while her fingers ran through my hair. Her hands softly traced my figure over the towel then softly traced my legs which appeared dangerously exposed. I did not stop her. Instead, I found myself reaching for her face. Santana pulled my head down so she could gain better access to my lips. I grasped onto her shirt, which conveniently was open halfway. She kissed me more fiercely as I unconsciously dragged the hilt of my feet against the back of her leg…not only bringing her closer but arousing her in the process. She groaned, squeezing my waist and twisting a hand full of my hair in her hands. Her hand lingered there, on my waist, struggling to explore elsewhere. Reluctantly, her lips broke away from mine.

"Baby let me stop before i lose control" She spoke huskily.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N  
__Hey guys..the response for this story has been comparatively lower than my other stories and I'm wondering if i should continue this. please read and let me know what you guys think..enjoy:)  
_

* * *

_Ruthless envy is the deadliest sin_

_Yet truly the most developed strategy _

_To gain the heart you wished to win_

_For green is the champion of affinity_

* * *

When an individual enables you to arise into such delicate ecstasy, most common response would be to show the greatest kinship towards your reverence. Unfortunately when Santana had brought me to such amplified height of pleasure, my only response was to resent her. Detest her. Despise her. Abhor her. Yet again, unfortunately, I simply could not loathe my affinity.

Hence, I admit, I possessed great aversion towards her. How could I not? She manipulated me to meet her own demands, proved me wrong in the most seductive way, forced me to yield through her unavoidable ministration, and in the end, left me to regret my unconscious actions. As Santana set me down on the side of the bed, still breathless like me, she grinned up at me while she sat bent down across me.

"I guess the jealousy card still works," She stated. Her eyes glistened towards me.

Of course, I should have known. It was all part of her brilliant ploy to make me accept my feelings.

I blinked down at her, completely baffled at my own behavior: how naively I fell for her iniquitous plan and how easily I submitted to her. I was already beginning to lament upon my idiocy, kissing her back was truly the greatest mistake my heart ever made and now that my mind had finally begun to function, I was steadily becoming cognizant of the consequences I would eventually face. So, I did what usually consoled my melancholy. I wept. Bawled. Whimpered. I cried as Santana watched me with immense perplexity.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you back. I'm so sorry." I told her repeatedly.

"You're apologizing?!"

"I shouldn't have kissed you back." I cried.

Santana stood up abruptly, motionless for merely a second. My eyes moved up to meet hers. Her hands clamped onto my shoulder and pushed me down onto the bed, Santana on top.

"Why the hell are you sorry? Huh? Do I look pitiful to you?" She inquired. Her eyes were cold stones, emitting an icy glare. I looked away quickly. How swiftly her eyes could change emotion. Her mercurial behavior left me in awe and in immense mystification.

"My answer is the same as before." I muttered.

"Then why did you respond to me?" She bitterly asked. Her voice was low and rusty, weighing me down and leaving me utterly feeble.

"I like you. That's why." I whispered gently. Santana's hands stilled, loosening its grip on my shoulder.

"But you still don't wish to be mine." She stated odiously.

"No. I cannot break my own virtue for my own selfish reasons. If I live, I live for my dear mother. She saved me that day, to see me prosper throughout my life. So I live on with the principles she bestowed upon me. I will not break them for your sake or for mine." I explained . "Now. Get off me."

She stood up straight heading silently towards the door. I watched her leave, clutching onto my heart as it beat restlessly for Santana. It was as if she had become a part of my soul, leaving me relentless. All I could envision is her dark beauty. All I could listen to is her melodious voice. All I could touch was her dexterous hands. Al I could sniff in was her sweet scent arousing me. And all I could feel was the intensity of her love which made me shiver inside with pleasure.

"If I am allowed to assume, I would believe that your mother did not teach you to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your mother. She taught you to love. Simply love."

"You do not love me San," I declared, my eyes daring to meet her own. She moved away from the door and once again, came closer to me. I gasped at her unexpected movement.

"Oh?" She laughed sarcastically.

"It's lust. You're offended that unlike other girls, I am not manipulated by you. Once you can have me, you will score another girl. Then, the next thing I know. You have left me." I told her.

"Who made you the soothsayer?" She came closer, charging towards me, in the same manner as her mother often did.

"It's true, isn't it?" I asked, surprised that she did not deny my statement. Had I been right all along? I wished to be wrong, to be proven wrong for all the dark things I predicted. I wished to hear that she loved me, and would never leave me the way I feared.

"Why makes you think it's true?" She inquired. Santana bent down her head so it was level with mine. Then she moved closer, as if attempting to kiss me. I pulled my head back, glued into her hypnotic gaze.

"B-because'" I trailed off, swallowing my own anxiety. "Tell me something. When did you fall in love with me?"

I blurted out.

She would tell me that since the first day she saw me, her eyes could not leave me. She was swooning over my flawless beauty as if it was she and I…nobody else.

I would know, after this banal explanation., this was a game for her. And I was just another level she had to succeed. I would never fall for such mundane proposal.

She genuinely smiled at me, bringing her hand towards my face. Santana ran her index finger down the side of my face, lingering on my chin, slowly lifting my head to meet her glance.

"I was walking down the stairs, two years ago. I saw you sweeping the floor, crying softly." She reminisced. I remembered. That was the same year Mr. Lopez had died. Mama was ruthless, so ruthless that she had pushed me down the staircase for daring to go near her kids who lived upstairs. I remembered that James loved me then. He enamored my presence and has asked me to come upstairs to tell him a story before the night was over.

Santana kissed my forehead. I slowly closed my eyes. However, she held my face in her hands and gently opened my eyes with her thumbs, then brushed her thumbs against my cheeks which blazed with discomfort.

"You looked up at me with your beautiful baby blue eyes. It was twinkling, you know, as if the stars were plucked from the sky just to be in your gaze." Her voice was barely a whisper. I breathed gently, waiting for her to continue. "But then you looked away as if it hurt for you to look at me. As I watched you continue sweeping the floor, it hit me like an epiphany. I just knew."

She kissed my forehead again slightly lingering there.

"I watched you cry, like you were Cinderella. More than anything, I wanted to be your prince Charming,well princess i guess. and protect you from my mother and give you the love which you never received."

She suddenly stood up straight and breezed away, disappearing through the door. I held my breath, watching her leave so abruptly. I breathed in a deep sigh as I felt the silence weighing me down. She loved me.

But what was I to give her? She was the renowned daughter of a wealthy businesswoman who supposedly was my mother. Everyone in the society knew me as her ravenous, opulent daughter who preferred to be a recluse. In this house, I was a simple girl, living beyond my will, with a lack of everyday requirements in life. I was a poor girl living in the basement, disowned by my mother, detested by my little brother, and now, pursued by my big sister.

I laughed into the silence atmosphere. How ridiculous it sounded, calling her my sister. She was not blood related. She was not even my cousin. We were strangers put into the same house because of a legal paper that evinced no relevance in this house where the reality could barely be seen by society.

This clandestine house was full of secrets only cognizant to those who lived through the times. Even the society could not reveal the truth of what had occurred to Mr. Lopez and what was occurring in the Lopez mansion. The secrets were too much to bare, especially for those who knew, and those who knew the half of the story like my naive little brother.

Now a new secret has been included to this house: the scandalous connection between Santana and me. However, pursuing this love could only bring hell which caused me to be dubious of how great Santana's love for me was. I could not trust that she would continue to love me knowing that her mother would stand against this love.

And whether or not she surprisingly held her faith for our love, I could never risk her life for a love without a future. Unlike me, she had a future which would benefit her and make her effervescent. How could I steal her bliss away?

I desired to be hers. Everyday, I would kiss her and embrace her. She would plead for food and I would cook most willingly. She would demand I prepare her for work and I would hastily fix her lunch and set her clothes before she left for work. But this imagination stood dark against the reality. No matter how badly my heart cried out for her, I could never ultimately be with her.

The better would be in forgetting her.

* * *

And so simply, the week disappeared. A new sunrise defined the beginning of a new day. I evaded her for days, refusing to confront her although I sensed a superfluous amount of guilt. However, she made it facile to avoid her as she made herself scarce day by day.

Yet, as college came, I realized I would eventually meet her in the campus…somewhere.

I strutted outside of the building towards the campus, heading towards Quinn who spotted me immediately. My eyes moved side to side praying that Santana would not appear in front of me.

"I missed you!" Quinn came running towards me. I embraced her willingly, joyous that I was finally seeing my best friend after so many days…so many terrible days.

"Britt, you won't believe it! The test we took, we both passed with an A! Maybe the professor will start liking you now. " She shrugged. I laughed halfheartedly.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "Where's Artie?"

Artie Abrams was a rich spoiled boy who attended this college because his parents paid for the tuition and possessed a great amount of connections with the administrative board, similar to Santana. Our first encounter was in the administrative board. We were being interviewed before getting accepted to the college.

_I was edgy from worry and concern. My hands were clamped with sweat. I was biting my lip relentlessly, hoping to find comfort in my bad habits._

_Suddenly, he had taken my hands and brought them up to his face, blowing them gently. Surprised, I snatched them back asking his purpose for such insolent behavior._

"_You're so nervous. When you shake the Principal's hand, it would be a big turn off if your hands are so sticky and disgusting." Artie shrugged at me as I began to laugh._

"_You don't even know me."_

"_Hi I'm Artie. You must be'"_

"_Brittany."_

"_Great! Now we know each other," he grinned. We laughed and talked more and more before they called me into the room. We had exchanged numbers and decided to tell each other if we happen to get accepted. I debated whether I should call him but before I could decide, he had already called me. Like a girl, he squealed over the phone and I told him to hush his tone._

"_We're going to be great friends." He promised._

Artie was probably the strangest, most peculiar acquaintance in my life but he was also one of my closest friends besides Quinn.

"He left." Quinn replied.

"He still has a bunch of classes to attend. Why would he leave?" I questioned.

"I don't know," Quinn began to bounce on her feet, swinging from side to side.

"You're a bad liar." I mumbled.

"He went to your house." She revealed.

"What?!" My mouth fell open. It took me a second before I sprinted out of her sight and towards my house. I took the bus straight home, fearing what I would see when I entered my house.

The basement was my home. I was a transparent bubble at home, breezing in and out of the living room. Only when Mama and I ran into each other, there would be an ill encounter. Avoiding her one day would earn me one day without her beating. It was as if I never existed.

However, if Artie inquired for me, it would cause trouble simply because he would remind Mama that the girl she strongly resented was still living in her house.

When I arrived home, Artie was not outside. I tiptoed inside the house finding the house as vacant as always. Where was he?

I took the steps downstairs to find a figure bending down in front of my door as if retrieving something from the small crack in between the door and the floor. I smiled reluctantly.

"Artie," I called out. As he turned around, I discovered that it was Santana. My smile disappeared as my heart immediately began to race. Even after seeing her for such a long time, every memory and every sensation returned as if it was undeniably novice and fresh. "Santana."

"Whose this?" She interrogated, holding up a slip of paper.I wondered if she had forgotten our last encounter.

I took it from her and read it slowly:

_I have missed you for the week. My heart is pleading for your appearance. For the sake of my restless heart, show me my lovely Brittany in front of the college entrance at 8 PM today. I will wait for your presence to give you the biggest surprise of your freaking life!_

_3 XOXO Artie_

Typical…Artie Abrams. He was more of a girl at heart than a boy.

"My best friend." I told Santana, smiling at the note. What surprise could he possibly give me?

"You mean your boyfriend?" Her face was hard and cold, as bitter and stern as a grapefruit still in the stage of ripening.

I gulped stepping away from her. No, I was clearly mistaken. She was far more than bitter, she was furious.

"N-no. Friend." I responded.

"A friend doesn't write X's and O's at the end of a letter. A friend doesn't talk about a shitty heart 'pleading for your appearance'. Who the hell is this douche?" She inquired. Her voice grew louder and harsher by every word. I attempted to slip away from her but she pinned me against the wall across my door. I writhed under her, crying out in resistance.

"Stop it, Santana. You're hurting me!" I told her.

When I came home today, what I feared was Mama. What I believed was that she would beat me ruthlessly for bringing in a friend when it was not my home in the first place. Instead, I faced something even worse than Mama's abuse…Santana's wrath.

"Why does it matter?! We're not together! You have no right to tell me who I should be with. So what he's my boyfriend?" I spoke thoughtlessly. She squinted her gaze, focusing solely on me.

In a few seconds, my legs were lifted off of the floor. She threw me over her shoulder and brought me inside my room. Santana threw me into my bed, and as I attempted to arise, she pinned me down with her hands.

It's true. The better would be in forgetting her, avoiding her.

But as her hands brushed against my skin and her lips aggressively touched mine, I could only feel the heat pooling into me and my heart thumping as if it was on line for the fastest car race. I struggled to breathe. Her lips suffocating me and I opened my mouth to intake a sharp breath. Her tongue slipped inside, exploring places I never knew existed. When I pushed her away consistently, her lips went to the nape of my neck, biting and sucking violently. I screamed from pleasure. Inside, I prayed that she would believe it was a cry of protest.

One last attempt: I pushed against her chest. This time, she acquiesced, breaking away from me.

"Dare to say it again?"

She asked.

"It doesn't matter. We were never together. You have absolutely no right to do this to me! Who cares if he's my boyfriend?" I repeated boldly.

I knew her response would only be to kiss me more. But at this point, as I felt her so close to me, all I could sense was my heart wanting her even closer.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N

Hey guys sorry for the delay in updating..life got all sorts of hectic..anyway i wanna thank everyone who reviewed..hope you guys like this..enjoy..

* * *

My dearest one is the claimed devil

But I unconsciously refused to pay any heed

For I am blessed with moments I revel

Of beautiful you who I desperately need

* * *

"Brittany, are you in here?"

Before I could tell her to get off of me, she had already lifted herself up, rushing to the other side of the bed. I steadily got off from my position. My dress had ridden up my knee, exposing my belly. The buttons on yellow dress were open, disclosing my cleavage. I stood up, pulling my dress down and closing the buttons. I wiped my face and rubbed my lips together, hoping that it didn't look too swollen.

For the first time, I felt as if I were a crook caught in the act.

"She will suspect, with you here." I told her softly. She shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back on my bed. She looked away from me, paying no attention to the situation displayed in front of her.

"It doesn't matter."

How could it not matter to her? She may not respect her mother, but her grandmother was worth more than her life. If Santana Maria Lopez could fear anyone, it was her Abuela. To me, grandma Lopez was worth more than my life. She was my faith and belief in this family. She was my support in this family. Although Mama treated me cruelly, Abuela protected me in this atrocious environment. In the darkness, she was my last blink of light. She was the hope which resolved my troubles. Without her, my heart would be vacant, so vacant that I would forget my life's meaning. And if there was meaning to the life I led, it would be diminished immediately. However, she was my angel holding my hand through the catastrophes surrounding my life.

My only reason in remaining in this family and in this house was because of her. Had she not taught me to hope and to persevere, I would have ran away regardless of my financial paucity. If this house was hell, she was the heaven blessing me.

"Brittany, are you there?"

"I'm coming, Abuela!" I rushed to the door, opening it to greet my grandmother.

"Abuela, oh I missed you so much." I embraced her small, fragile figure in my arms. She replicated, patting my back gently. Her laugh became muffled in my chest. I smiled, breaking away from her.

"I missed you too, Darling. It's been a month. I was handling office matters because Gloria is still at home." She explained.

"I know, I know. Come in." I took her hand.

"Santana?" Abuela impeded her tracks. "Why are you in her room?"

"We were conversing about school," she lied. Perplexed, I gave her a look which she ignored purposefully. How could she lie to her own grandmother?!

"We were not-

"Not what?" The intensity of her eyes could probably kill a soul that moment. Her eyes were on fire, burning with such an amplifying level that no soul could stand through the wrath. I immediately averted my gaze, leaving my statement incomplete.

"Brittany, come on, sit with me. I want to speak to you." She gestured for me to sit down next to Santana. "Santana, why don't you go up to your room?"

Santana instantly stood up, heading towards the door.

"Brittany, what is that? Is that a love bite?! From who? Are you dating someone?" Abuela reached towards my neck, blinking several times as if confirming that it actually was a hickey. I automatically put my hand over my neck, going towards the mirror. There was a red swollen mark embedded into my shoulder. My mouth fell open as I looked at it even closer.

Santana.

"Who are you dating?" Apparently, Santana did not leave the room yet. Insteads he had walked towards the mirror, grinning iniquitously into the reflection. I swiftly moved away from the mirror, fixing my dress so it covered the mark.

"Brittany, you promised me you would never hide anything for me." Abuela said, gazing towards me in solemnity.

"Abuela, I am not dating anyone." I told her truthfully.

"Then, is this sexual assault?" She asked. She pointed towards my shoulder, confused at my response. "Darling, you have to tell me. I cannot let my precious granddaughter get hurt like this."

"N-no." My heart was in my throat. I could not conjure up any reply. I turned towards Santana who continued to stare at me with mischief. I bit my lip nervously, racking my brain to find some type of reply.

"We're both waiting, Brittany." Santana insisted, tapping her foot annoyingly.

"Artie." I spoke.

"Artie?" Abuela and Santana repeated. I nodded smiling.

"Yes, he's my boyfriend. I've been dating him for about a year now. Actually, Abuela. If it's all right with you, I am going to meet with him right now." I told her, grabbing my coat and heading towards the door. Santana followed me.

"I don't believe you." She claimed.

"What are you saying? Just a second ago you were interrogating me about the love note he wrote me." This time, it was I grinning at her. I was winning her own game. Yet, I knew that when we would be alone, she would give me no clemency. Her ferocity shrouded her eyes, seeping into mine. I swallowed, but kept my composure. Even if she tried, she could not take away my boldness. Not when Abuela was here to shield me from menaces like her.

"Oh, let me see the note," Abuela pleaded, utterly excited over my new discovery of love. I nodded towards her, snatching away the note that Santana had wrinkled into her hands.

"Isn't he romantic, Abuela? I am so grateful that I have such a beautiful grandmother and now a handsome boyfriend in my life." I emphasized, making sure to look at Santana's infuriated expression.

"I'll be going now." I kissed her on the cheek before leaving in a hurry. As I hummed softly to myself, I put on my shoes and then took out my phone to call Artie. Before I could dial, my phone was snatched away abruptly while my body hit against Santana's chest.

"What do you mean, boyfriend? I thought you said he was your friend."

"Does it matter? Remember what I told you? We're not together. I will not accept you, no matter how many ways you try to coax me." I declared confidently.

"You responded. Why the hell did you respond to my kiss, then?" She twisted my elbow, so it was pinned against my neck. I tried to remove my arm from her grasp, but she gripped it tighter. I winced from the pain shooting through my arm.

"Stop asking me questions I have already answered. Let me go. I have to meet Artie." I writhed under her, beating her arms hoping I would injure her enough to attempt an easy release. However, my attempt was in absolute vain.

"Then, remember what I told you, Brittany." She demanded, moving her face closer to mine. I instantly became immobile, making sure our lips remained apart. Slowly, I shook my head. She came closer, her fingers running up my arm. My lips fell open as I took in a quivering breath. "What did I tell you, Brittany?" She inquired, now running her fingers down my arm, clasping her hand with mine. My mouth fell open as my breathing became audible. I moaned helplessly, closing my eyes. Her tongue traced my lips. I pressed my lips together. Jerking my head backwards, I desperately tried to create space between us.

"I don't remember." I responded, clearing my throat.

"If I am anything, I am simply yours. Do you remember now?" She asked again, her lips making their way down my neck. Instantly, I moved my head upwards so it became easier to kiss my neck.

"Yes." I replied hoarsely. Suddenly, the sensation of her lips diminished and my arms were free from her. She stepped away from me eliciting a whimper of protest from me, her eyes sternly focusing into mine. I attempted to look away but failed from hypnosis.

"Then remember this too. You are mine Britt. Simply mine. Only mine. Even if you try to run, I will hold you tightly, so tightly that you can't even breathe. I will never leave you," She moved closer, jutting her index finger against my heart. "And this heart? I claimed it. I made my mark on you and if anyone dares to get in between, I will shred them until they have no dignity left, no soul left."

"I am not your possession San! You have no right-

"I never asked you for any rights. My ethics are made by me. I do not get it approved by anyone, least of all you." Santana turned away, hastily walking away from me. When she had disappeared into her room, I made my escape: I quickly slipped out of the house. She had no right over me. I was not her puppet which she could claim to be the master of. My heart belonged to me, not her. What mark did she make? I never said yes to her and I would continue to do so even if she forced me to meet her will.

The toys she played with as a fun game…I was not one of them. I refused to let her objectify me.

* * *

"What took you so long? It's past eight!" Artie's voice erupted from across the street. I squinted in the dark, waving as I made out his figure.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted.

"Well, hurry. We're going to be late." He went inside of his car, making a U-turn so I could get in easily.

"Hey." I smiled at him, taking in the familiar scent of his car. He nodded his head, his car swerving into the road. When I had at last noticed at me, I realized that he was smiling ridiculously as if he was the most effervescent being. I shook my head, unmoved by his frivolousness. "What is it, now?"

"It's strange, you know. I thought it would be you, the happy one. But whatever, I can be happy for you too." He shrugged. What should I be happy for?

"Tell me, Artie." I put my hand on top of his shoulder, shaking it rapidly so he would answer.

"Wait a little longer. It's a surprise."

"Fine, but just so you know, I hate surprises."

"Brittany sweetheart, when it comes to Artie, you have absolutely nothing to hate." He spoke ostentatiously. I shook my head, looking out the window.

In a few minutes, he had already parked the car. I peeked side to side, wondering what surprise it could possibly be. As I looked at the rows of cars lined up in pitch dark, there was nothing worth of shock. Nothing at all.

"This is for my best friend," he said, walking behind me. His hands rested on my shoulder. Artie turned me around, pointing up towards the sky. The sky was blank in the dark night.

Suddenly, fireworks emerged into the sky, shooting down noisily. I gasped tilting my head so I could see the beauty devoted to me. Artie whispered "happy birthday" into my ears. I looked at him in surprise.

"It's not-

Then, it dawned me. Today was my birthday, my real birthday. I laughed in pure joy, firmly holding onto my closest companion, Artie. For the first time, I experienced fireworks.

"You really didn't have to." I cried happily.

"Yes I did. Do you know how pissed I was when you told me you never saw fireworks. How can you live in New York and never see fireworks?" He shook his head in shock.

"I'm locked in a room. What do you expect?"

"Who cares about your room or the crappy house you live in? Right now, you are with Artie Abrams. That's all that matters." He told me. He enveloped me into his arms. Cheerfully, I cried into his shoulder, thanking him repeatedly.

Everyone had an antagonist in their life, in the chapters of their life. A life was just another story with myriad of characters defining the journey. It was easy to forget how blessed one is once the antagonist devours an individual's purpose. But I had found mine, the reason why I lived on. I was blessed, so blessed that I possessed three of the most ravenous people in my life: Quinn, Artie, and Abuela. They defined my life, my drive to keep persevering. Even if the world fell apart, no cursed soul could impede my pathway. Not even the antagonist of my life: Santana.

So, although Santana had made me miserable, I would continue to pursue the life I chose. Not even she could control my world…least of all, "mark" me as hers. I erased her from my mind, leaning slightly closer to Artie.

Today was my birthday. That is all that depicted essence in this blissful moment. Today'.. I stopped crying, reminiscing upon this significant date.

Today was also the day my father, Mr. Lopez, had died in a car crash. Wasn't this the reason I wished to forget my own birthday?

"You should go back, Brittany. I would rather find you well than bruised." Artie said. I pretended to smile. He drove hastily since Artie was aware that if Mama found me coming in late, she would beat more. Soon we were at my house, saying goodbye to one another. I waved him away as I headed towards the door. Stealthily, I opened it, praying that mother was in her room, not in the living room.

"-for my son's death! Stop blaming her! It's you. The blame is on you! How can you even dare to raise your hand on my granddaughter?"

"Abuela," I whispered to myself. They were fighting…Mama and Abuela.

"How can you support her?! She's not even your bloodline. She's adopted! A burden on this house and this society!" Mama's words pierced into me, leaving me frozen on the spot. I tiptoed into the corner that hid me from them, but still allowed me to listen.

"A Burden? Right now, you're a recluse living in this house, half-drunk and half-dead. Get help, Gloria, before it's too late." Abuela advised.

"You should be supporting me! Not her! Me! I'm your daughter-in-law!" Her shrill increased extensively, vibrating the walls which I leaned on. I pulled away my ear from the wall, wincing at the cacophony Mama created.

"You killed your husband and you expect me to blame her? Who put the sleeping pills into his vitamin bottle? You killed him before he even set out for work."

"He wasn't going to work. He was going to buy that pesky girl ice cream! Ice scream, for god's sake! How could I have known that he was leaving the same time I told him to take his pills?! She was the cause, not me!"

"Stop lying to yourself. Stop it, Gloria. What was your purpose in giving him sleeping pills? So he could sleep? No, no, no." Abuela laughed sarcastically. "You suspected that he was cheating on you. Everyday, you fought with him, sought his attention when he gave you the most of his time. The car crash was because he overdosed on sleeping pills. You knew he would take more than one vitamin pill. He always-

"I didn't know! I didn't know!"

"Even if he did not get into that car, he would've died. You already knew he was dead even before he got into the car. The car crash was caused by you. You could've killed Brittany. But you wanted that, didn't you? That's why you didn't stop them. You were jealous of Brittany, the way my son loved her. That jealousy killed every little humanity you had inside of you. But how could you kill my son, like this? How?!" Abuela was whimpering. "And you even dare to blame my innocent granddaughter. What harm did she cause you that you treat her like this. This poor girl didn't even get love from her own mother. She was abused by her father and now even in her new life, you abuse her. She was better off in the orphanage. Oh, my poor Brittany. How terribly she suffers!"

I felt her knees drop to the kitchen floor. My heart beated abnormally. I swiftly covered my lips. If they could hear me…it would be the beginning of calamity.

"I'm leaving. I can't stay in this house." Abuela exited the kitchen, breezing out of the house. The door violently shut behind her. In a few minutes, her car's engine started and she drove into the dark night.

Mama was now walking away too, stomping out of the kitchen. Her steps were heavily thumping onto the bare floor and even as she made her way onto the carpeted living room, her steps vibrated the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N

Hey guys. thanks for all the reviews. i changed the summary as many of you requested. i'm just not good at writing summaries:( anyway this chapter is in Santana's POV. hope you guys enjoy..

* * *

Temporarily, this raging beast will suppress

Simply for the sake of your essential safety

But when it shall liberate, utterly merciless

Do not hold me culpable for the damaging atrocity

* * *

She was pulling me in so stealthily that not even I could recognize her wrong doing. It was far too late to render myself stolid towards her suffering. If she fell from the atrocities my mother weaved, I would fall with her…willingly. There was a divine power in her, a magnetic energy attracting me to her. Even when the escape pod was there for my clear benefit, I refused to take it because she had become the ultimate purpose of my life. Leaving her meant relinquishing my soul.

I breathed for her. I suppressed for her. How easy it was to seduce her, to tame her with a simple touch. However, Brittany was my unwanted angel attached to me by destiny and fate. To detach from her proved more than difficult…it was impossible. She was no girl I ever encountered before and this fatal attraction between us could never dim. Although the light may grow weak, there appeared an inner glow illuminating from her heart which drove me mad to attain her. And soon, I realized, that this luminosity was my great necessity.

I could not wish for her pain or for her wounds to deepen. Though she may arouse my wrath incessantly, I could not curse her. Hence, as she pleaded for my aid, I agreed without vacillating. To protect her was an honor I yearned for.

"Brittany, if I speak to her. She will listen. Give-

"She's drunk! Mama is drunk and half unconscious. In what planet does a drunken woman listen?"

"You have to confront her," I explained. "Maybe then she may spare you."

"I can't. It hurts too much. She leaves me so skittish, I am frightened of standing beside her."

* * *

I know you suffered

But I don't want you to hide

It's cold and loveless

I won't let you be denied

* * *

She was gripping onto my hand, her nails digging into my palm. Her eyes were wide with fear, moving swiftly from me to the far end of the hallway. She was searching for impending traces of my mother who was now halfway up the stairs. The trepidation in her eyes evinced such a daunting image that it amplified the rhythm of my once placid heart. As she panicked, I feared…but only for her.

"Brittany! I will find you! I will murder you!" She clamored. I swallowed, following Brittany's eyes towards the hallway. It was true. She was drunk and a drunkard never listened. If she found Brittany, Mother would destroy her until even the vultures could not feed off of her carcass. She would burn her to wash away the very trace of her excruciating existence. The adopted child would ebbed away as the fire melted her.

How could I let my soul risk such enormity?

"Go in, Brittany." I ordered immediately. A timid Brittany tiptoed inside, tugging on my arm so I would follow her in my room. "I said I will speak-

"Stay with me," she pleaded, pushing me against the door so the door clicked shut. She embraced me, her hands stubbornly clasping onto the back of my shirt. I felt her tears staining into my empty chest.

* * *

Soothe me

I'll make you feel pure

Trust me

You can be sure

* * *

"Why did you come to me?" I inquired. This was my opportunity to discover her reality. From the beginning, Brittany desired for me. Yet, how meekly she rebuffed. I had only asked for the truth, but had no faith in me.

She was liar, a lover in denial. I would not spare her after all the pain she caused me. If she declined my acceptance, I would pursue her until she could not withhold any longer.

"You could have gone out that door so easily. Abuela would have happily taken you with her. Why did you come upstairs to me?" I interrogated.

"I don't have to answer to your questions." Pushing me away, she sternly answered. How dare she manipulated Santana Lopez's words against her? I swiftly gripped onto her wrist to pull her towards me. Her arm hit against my chest. Brittany was completely startled by my sudden movement.

* * *

You trick your lovers

that you're wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine

* * *

"Do not repeat my lines to me," I spoke ruggedly into her ear. She exhaled a quivering breath, feebly attempting to break away from me. Mockingly, I grinned noticing the goosebumps running through her arms. Brittany was so easily affected by me. For her, it became facile to succumb to my demands.

"I don't know," Brittany whimpered as her eyes lingered downwards. Unconsciously, she played with the buttons of my shirt, opening and closing it repeatedly. I smiled, leaning against the door.

"Is it so hard to say that you have feelings towards me?" I soothingly asked, running my fingers through her silky hair. She was so beautiful. Every action she took seduced me

"Santana! Mija! Open the door, now! That abandoned orphan…is she with you?!"

I stood away from the door, stupefied by the abrupt knocking. Brittany bit her lips, looking helplessly into my eyes. The fear darkened the glint in her eyes. She appeared ready to experience her own blood. Thinking quickly, I pushed her towards my bed, slipping her into the large white blanket lazily hanging on the edge of the bed.

"Just do as I do," I whispered, lying down next her. Confused, Brittany attempted to get up, but with my arm, I shoved her down again. I pulled the blanket over her so her face was hidden.

"Open the door, Santana! Are you hiding someone?!"

I removed my shirt and stood just in my bra as Brittany watched terrified. If I could read her thoughts, she was inferring that I would sleep her. Did she know me so scarcely that she belittled me so greatly? I was not a rapist. I may coax her but never will I force her.

"Come in, Mother." I called. She slammed the door open; the door bouncing against the wall.

"She's here, isn't she?"

"Who, Mother? There is definitely a girl here. She's from college. Mother, if you don't mind, she's sleeping. She's very tired after…well, you know." I smirked at my mother as it dawned on her what I was trying to say. Without conversing anymore, Mother closed the door.

"She's gone, so quickly?" Brittany whispered under the covers.

"Yeah. It's easy to convince her, especially when she's drunk." I muttered. I crossed my arms behind me so I was leaning against it. Time passed slowly but neither one of us made the first move or the first word. Brittany made no motion to emerge from the covers; immobile, she remained there.

"You can get out now," I told her after the dreadful silence. No movement. Rolling my eyes from frustration, I dove inside the covers to find her eyes closed. How could she have fallen asleep so quickly?

"Britt, wake up." I shook her but she did not respond. "This is ridiculous. Brittany!"

Annoyed, Brittany moaned slapping my hand away. She was behaving so strangely today. Probably, even she did not realize the consequences of her actions. I laid down parallel to Brittany, observing her grave slumber. Unaware, Brittany rubbed her nose consistently and then, smiled as if she was having a ravishing dream.

* * *

Please me

Show me how it's done

Tease me

You are the one

* * *

Hesitantly, I inched closer and traced her complexion. Irritated, she pushed my hand away but I grasped it to place it against my stomach. She smiled again, moving closer towards me.

I wanted to kiss her then. Every minor movement she did tempted me as if she was the siren calling me into hypnosis. I watched her lips move as it spoke my name so softly. All of a sudden, my name became a clandestine treasure, a precious meaning hidden within it…a meaning only she could establish.

I traced her lips as it slightly opened. She whispered my name again. My chest heaved, squirming from her call. Even her sleep betrayed her. She desired for me.

"Baby." I cooed to her. Her lips curved while her hand on my stomach became a small fist. She began to steadily close the distance between us. As Brittany grew nigh, the less resistant I became. I gulped down the sensation, turning away from her.

But as I moved away from her, Brittany placed her arm around me, pressing her palm against my bare stomach. Her hands were close, pooling in a vibrant feeling within me. I was drowning in her pleasure even as she was incognizant of her impact. I groaned in frustration, withdrawing her arm from me. She made an aggravated noise, pulling my body to a dangerous proximity. Brittany's leg dragged lazily up the side of mine so it was now entangled with my limbs.

"Breathe," I told myself. How hard could it be for me, Santana Lopez, to resist one woman? However, the flashes of our reminiscence defined my imagination. I began to recall the moments we kissed. As the hilt of her leg rubbed against my leg, I remembered when she had done the exact movement when I kissed her and pushed her against the wall of her bedroom.

* * *

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

* * *

The devil began to arise: I took her hand which she had pasted into my stomach and pinned it to the bed. I pulled her leg even closer around me so I was placed in between her legs now. With my other hand, I pushed her head towards me, slamming my lips against her.

Brittany's moans became muffled in our kisses and she slowly opened her eyes, blinking consistently. I broke away from her, forcing the beast to remain in its cage. This could never have been more wrong. I perceived her; she perceived me.

At this point, it would be wise to apologize for my abrupt nature.

"I'm s-

The woman under me depicted someone I could hardly recognize. Was it just her dormant state or was she fully awake? I could not tell. But what she did next left me baffled in my own decrepitude. Her lips crashed against mine and she clung to me, hauling my head downwards so we could be as close as nature allowed.

"San," she called and in return, I kissed her harder.

The aggression she brought out in me shocked me. Where was this possessive nature? Where was this nonexistent beast emerging from? I could not realize myself as I became hers. The submission and the suffocation began to embed itself in our hearts and we were thirsting for each others' presence.

Was it me, this time, prying her lips apart or bringing her into my arms? I did not want to take the chance to hear her deny it another time. I broke away again so that my lips hovered over hers.

"Baby, please accept me," I pleaded.

"No."

"Then don't you dare to touch me again." I feigned a warning.

"Do you really not comprehend my intentions?"

"What, intentions? You are ashamed of the society and scared of Mother."

"There is so much more," she said softly, averting her gaze from me. Oh, how I detested this. She stole away the connection we possessed to satisfy her own restless heart. My fingers entangled in her hair, I turned her violently. She closed her eyes. Infuriated, I squeezed her waist and pushed her hips into me. She yelped. Her eyes shot open, threatening to shed potential tears.

"Do not look away!" I demanded. "Tell me the truth."

"For you, let me stay away…no matter how much the hardship it causes me and you."

"For me?! What type of…

Cognizant of my own stupidity, I trailed away . I had become so obtuse that I oversaw the truth.

"For me," I repeated. I sat up, watching her. She glanced at me, her eyes unmoving.

Brittany was scared of me. I was the prodigy, the opulent child from the prestigious family who dared to mingle with an insignificant girl outside of her status. If she was degraded in society, I would be conversed of. She feared what the future withheld for us. We were siblings with a false title that easily separated us.

To remain with her would taint my reputation.

Yet, worst of all, what she feared the most was Mother. The pernicious image of me would induce a sullen and critical state for my mother. My relationships would become no more.

To remain with her was the ultimate sacrifice of the life I possessed now.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N

Hey guy...i'm so grateful to everyone who reviewed and PMd me...so here's a quick update in thanks to all of you..i dedicate this one to Sunshine..thanks so much for everyone who read and reviewed..enjoy..it's long..almost 5000 words..:)

* * *

I know what I may unfortunately seem

A loathsome selfish individual

But spare me from your iniquitous scheme

For my reasons are not as detestable

* * *

"For me?" Santana laughed sarcastically. She threw the covers aside and stood near the reading table, tapping away her feet. "If it was for me, you would have said yes a long time ago. If it was for ME, you would not have been impaling your knife through my heart!"

The knife could not be as sharp as the pain she would receive by simply being with me. One 'yes' from me would shatter her name, reputation, and relationship. What would one 'yes' give her? Me? I was not enough for her. I could never be. She could have the whole world in her fist.

How could she ask me to let her toss away what I valued more than me?

I wished to confess to her of all my deepest troubles but if it would hurt her, in return, I was prepared to suppress it forever. How could she ever comprehend the wounds embedded into my heart? It became so excruciating that I could not breathe without her presence. However, I persevered for the sake of bestowing in her a better fortune and a better life. My rejection was for her.

But I could promise her one thing: I am hers, only hers forever.

Never could she be made to suffer through situations I survived through. She was an affluent child who received the greatest treasures ever to be claimed. She lived amongst the highest prestige . In fact, Santana was like a princess who gained what she demanded and discarded what she detested.

How could I ever ask her to cast away her luxurious life and honorable reputation for a low life vermin, like me?

"Go for a shower because I assume that is your reason for coming into my room. Am I right? Because obviously you did not enter to confess your love towards me." She muttered. "My apologies. Why would you confess to me when you feel nothing at all for me?"

I might have impaled a knife through her heart but she had pierced mine so easily as she spoke to me. She pierced mine continuously, repeatedly, unremittingly. Her words were the sharpest of all stakes solely devoted to obliterate me. But I would endure to it all as long as the pleasure, from being with her, remained raw. Even when her words were cruel and actions were brutal, I fell for her deeper and deeper as if she was the black pit with a satisfying hint of light. For that hypnotic light, I would surrender my essence whether it be life or innocence; I thirst for its touch.

"Did you hear me? Leave Brittany! You're safe now. You can get out of my bed."

Santana sat on the chair, opening up a World Humanities book. She feigned her occupancy, focusing on the text in the book. Yet, what I saw was a picture.

She could not fool me anymore.

"I don't have any-

"There are spare clothes that should fit you in that drawer." She waved me away with her hand, but I remained motionless.

"You have clothes that would fit me?"

"Many girls have been here and many have forgotten them." She explained apathetically. At this point, I would not have complained for my idiocy because ignorance is truly a bliss.

"Why were they here?"

I should not have inquired any further. To peruse through her privacy would lead me to what I did not wish to know.

Girls. How many? Was I just another one of them?

"That's a stupid question Brittany. Should I give you a lesson on biology?"

"I don't want to wear those clothes." My voice was restrained. I choked on the lump slowly dilating into my throat. The tears were too close; I could not allow her to perceive.

"Your reason?"

"They are not mine."

Her full plump lips were not mine to kiss. Her long raven hair was not mine to play with. Her beautiful mocha eyes were not mine to gaze at. She was not mine. I loathed over this agonizing circumstance. I longed for her to be mine. To see her with another enraged me, startled me, depressed me.

However, those clothes, propertied by other girls, proved everything…everything, I desired to be mine, never belonged to me in the first place.

"Your emotions are so lucid Britt. I almost pity your incapability to hide them," she said, chuckling. How facile it was for her to say such things since she could make me hers by force. I could not wish for her even in my dreams because then, to dream would be a sin.

She was turning to look at me but instantly, I shook off the covers. I ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Before the tears could drop, I turned the faucet on. Quickly, I mixed my tears with the water. Dissolving away my pain was my ultimate solace since the person, I wished would see the scars, could never belong to me. To be with her would leave me shattered, my surface diminished and my heart broken. And the pain I already felt seemed so unbearable. If I fell deeper, it would be too difficult to rejuvenate even if it was a false renewal.

"Open the door, Brittany." She knocked.

"I'll just wear my old clothes." I spoke but my weeping became clearly evident in my hoarse voice.

"Take my clothes at least."

"I said I'm fine." My voice rose. There was a moment of silence before the door clicked opened. Surprised at the abruptness, I backed up against the sink.

"Santana!"

"Here you go." Santana put the clothes on the stand. She was grinning mischievously as if she found this amusing.

"I could have been naked!"

"Well, you're not."

"I could-

"You were too busy crying. How could you have time for changing?" She smirked before closing the door. I sighed, realizing that my sniffles could have been heard too easily. But if she was understanding enough, she would have pretended to not hear it at all. Reluctantly, I picked up her clothes from the stand: a shirt and a boxer…

…a panty…

…a panty?!

Had she no shame whatsoever?

"You gave me your underware?!" I yelled through the bathroom.

"Well, all my shorts are dirty."

_"_All of them?_"_

_"_Yeah. all of them_"_

"Fine but, panties?!" I was beginning to wonder if she found every moment just another chance to tease and taunt me until all the amusement drained out of her. That is, if it was possible to have a limit on her amusement.

"Don't worry Britt. _They are_ washed." She yelled out.

"I am not wearing your panties!" I declared.

"Fine. Come out half-naked. I have no problem with that." I could hear her laughter erupting. She was laughing harder and harder. How could she possibly find this amusing? If I was not rebuffing her, she was teasing me in the utmost irritating way. If I was not hurt, she would attempt to find my vulnerability. Whatever the circumstance demanded, she was set on taunting me.

Yet, seeing that there was no choice left for me, I hesitantly began to take a shower. As I was taking a shower, I felt the door click again.

"Santana, is that you?" I called out.

"Yes." She responded. She may be a girl who knows nothing about the importance of a girl's dignity, but there was absolutely no reconciliation for this.

"Get out!" I clamored.

"Are you ordering me?" She demanded. I swallowed, curling my toes from the shivers running through me.

"And are you coming in?" I continued to inquire. This time, it was fear crawling through me. The last aspect that I wished to concern for was her seeing me naked.

"Yes. Right about now, actually." The door flew open and she was staring at the shower curtain which gratefully, blocked me from her view. However, my silhouette was clear to trace. I turned around, clinging to the curtain and praying she would not do anything drastic.

"Get out! Can't you see I'm naked?" In this moment, I felt too feeble and frightened to think logically. Thus, as the tears trickled down my cheeks, faded away with the spate of water, it could not have been any more anticipated.

"No, I don't see you naked…_unfortunately_. I do know that though, but I also know that there is a curtain. I would not have seen you regardless."

"You are a pervert!"

"If I was, I would have been in the shower with you right now Britt, fondling you."

"How can you just blatantly enter into a bathroom when someone is present? You are utterly indecent! Have you no shame left in you?" Rage was riding through my veins, pumping into the nucleus of nerve cells. I may be in love with her, but right now she was a lust driven pervert aspiring to shred my innocence. "No wonder I woke up to you kissing me!"

"You of all people are talking of shame. Who was feeling me up my leg, pretending to be sleep?!"

"Just get out! And I would not have felt up your leg even if you asked me to!"

"Here's your shitty towel." I watched as her silhouette left it on the stand. When she finally exited, I hastily went out to grab the towel. Probably that is why she let me shower in her room; she needed an excuse to tease me even more.

I changed rapidly into her panties and white shirt. I tiptoed out of the bathroom, hoping to leave her room stealthily, but she was there still studying on the reading table. Santana glanced at me, her eyes moving up and down for observance. I unconsciously put my leg over the other, strongly aware of my odd choice of clothes. However, at least she understood I was desperate. I would rather wear her panties than those seductresses' clothes.

"Why haven't you left yet?" She said, averting her gaze to her book once again. Instead of replying to her, I walked out of her room. It was better to not argue.

The atmosphere was quiet in the hallway which meant that Mama must have fallen asleep. After all, she was drunk only hours away.

As I made my way downstairs to my room, I noticed a sleeping Quinn, lethargically lying beside my bed. Confused, I sat down next to her and shook her gently.

"Quinn?" I called. She mumbled incoherently in her sleep. So, I called her again. Her eyes shot open and she smiled to see me.

"Oh Brittany! I have been waiting for so long!" She embraced, squealing like she usually did.

"You should tune down your voice. Mama might wake up." I whispered.

"Oops. Sorry!" She giggled joyously. I helped her stand and brought her inside my room.

"Why did you come, Quinn? You know how risky-

"I know, I know. But, I wanted to be your godmother today. Today you are Cinderella and you are going to the ball." She dramatically opened her arms wide.

"Ball? What ball? Quinn, this is silly."

"Well, it's not a ball. I'm talking about the dance in school. It's been announced a month ago. And we are going to go!" She took my hands and danced in circles with me.

"I don't have a dress, so no. You can go and then, tell me all about it." I began to laugh as she twirled me with her small arms.

"You think I didn't know that? I have prepared for you and me. No excuses."

"Come on, Quinn. This is ridiculous."

"We're going to the dance," she chimed continuously. I laughed as we danced, realizing I had no choice left anymore.

We were going to the dance.

* * *

I desperately plead, give unto me

For the mesmerizing agony is intolerable

Yet let me remain to rot blissfully

As this resolution with you is beautiful

* * *

"See how easy it is to sneak out of your house. Too bad you are a natural-born goody-two-shoes."

"That's because I don't sit in my room planning how to escape from my own house." I retorted.

"Come on, let's go." Quinn gestured me to get into her car.

Quinn hopped into her car while I entered from the other side. We both drove away from the Lopez mansion, in full speed, for the fear of being exploited. However, Mamma would most likely not hear the car engine over her somber sleep. Santana, though, might have heard us keenly. Yet, what did it matter? She was too furious to pay any heed towards me.

"Tell me, does Artie know this escape route?" I inquired, breaking away from my incessant thoughts of Santana. She pressed onto the accelerator. I sat back, clasping onto the seat. If she drove any faster, I would probably begin to scream. Nonetheless, to complain about her driving would only lead her into an accident. Quinn was an unusually skittish woman.

"No kidding! I even told him!" She replied proudly, humming to the mellow music playing in the radio.

"No wonder," I muttered to myself. He must have received her help in sneaking into the basement. Although I should have been grateful that my friends were prepared to go to any level to rescue me, it clearly proved dangerous for them. Mamma had never seen Quinn or Artie. She believed that no human in this world wished to be my companion. Friendship was completely out of her concern. To discover that I, indeed, possessed comrades who dared to enter the house without her permission…her wrath's most dangerous limit could be diminished.

"Everything is set for you. All you need to do is sit back and relax." Quinn began to giggle. I watched her, laughing along; not over the excitement for my first dance, but for the ridicule of the situation I was forced into. This was my first dance: what if I humiliated myself? Dances in school could not possibly be done with proper etiquette, let alone with proper materials. There must be barrels of beers with a night club theme setting the scene for potential vulgarity.

When we had arrived in Quinn's house, we both greeted her parents. They smiled, ushering us upstairs so we could get ready. I waved them goodbye, ascending the stair along with Quinn. She did not waste any time as she ran towards her cupboard. Quinn took out her dresses and jewelry and other accessories, ready to dress me up like a doll. I remained quiet as she garnered the jewelry, the dress, the hair style, the make up, and every other thing required to make me appear as an angel from the highest heavens. Only after she was complete with my look had she let me perceive my reflection. I seemed like a white fairy descending from amidst the constellations. She made me into a beautiful doll as if I truly was Cinderella today.

Yet, for most part, I was simply pure white.

"Thank you, Quinn. But I think I will blend in with the wall very easily." I chuckled. Quinn's almost permanent smile quickly became a frown and she crossed her arms above her chest.

"You are insulting my creation!" Quinn declared.

"Sorry, Quinny. I'm joking. You know that. What are you going to wear?"

"Pink!"

"Typical." I muttered.

"But with a hint of brown, my other favorite color."

"Because it's the color of chocolate?" I asked.

"You get me so well," She enveloped her arms around me and I quickly mumbled my "thank you" to her.

"If you can't count on me, how can I be your friend? You're my sister, Britt. I don't want you to rot in the Lopez hell mansion while I enjoy myself every single day." She told me. " Now, help me get ready."

Besides handing her the jewelery or the clothes, I hardly aided in her preparation. Quinn did not take too long to get ready although she had spent about an hour fixing me. When she was, at last, finished, she smiled brightly. I complimented on her perky beauty, assuring her that every boy would be stunned to see her. She blushed, immediately changing her train of thought:

"Well, then, let's go! Our dates are awaiting for our arrival downstairs."

Dates? How could she have left out the accompaniment segment so easily?

"Dates? Quinn, what is this?" I inquired, stopping her before she opened the door. Had she purposefully forgotten to tell me about our supposed dates? I could never agree to be accompanied by an utter stranger. "Oh Quinn, I should have never agreed to this. You never told me about dates!"

"Chill, Britt. You know them." Quinn hooked her arm around mine, skipping down the hallway and down the staircase. There, two men were sitting on the couch talking amongst themselves. Surprised to see a very much admired face, I let go of Quinn's hand and ran down the stairs. Abruptly, I embraced my best friend, kissing him gently on the cheek.

"Artie!" I said. He stood up, encircling his hands around my waist. He pulled me back, observing me.

"My lovely Brittany or should I say my beautiful date?" Artie raised his eyebrow, taking my hand in his. "I can't wait to dance with you. You are looking hotter than ever!"

"Artie, stop it." I hit him gently as Quinn and her date began to laugh.

"Brittany, meet Sam, Quinn's date." Artie introduced. I nodded, shaking his hand. Unexpectedly, a peculiar rupture of laughter erupted from him and I took my hand back, watching as he laughed strangely.

"He's just…weird. Don't pay attention." Artie whispered in my ear.

The function was booming with loud music playing. The DJ was dancing frivolously, girls surrounding him as they giggled endlessly. The dance floor was superfluous with a spate of couples who diffused to other corners of the studio. There was an adequate amount of food, never seeming to grow scarce. Beer cups were on the floor, next to drunk couples grinding against each other.

"This is not your scene, is it?" Artie asked.

"No…it's not," I mumbled, shaking my head. "Quinn, we need to go!"

"Britt, it'll be okay." Quinn said before walking away with Sam towards the food stand. While she munched continuously on the food, Brittany munched on her nails still staring at the inappropriate scene set in front of her.

"Let's dance, Brittany." Artie took my hand and suddenly, we were near couples who were enjoying themselves without rubbing against each other. He twirled me repeatedly, pulling me closer. We were savoring the moment, just Artie and me, satisfied with each other's presence. Every so and then, a slow song would play and we would converse with each other about college and the silliest occurrences. Truthfully, I detested the heavy atmosphere surrounding me but Artie's company lightened the ill sensation swirling in my stomach.

"Britt, you really do look beautiful today," he whispered in my ear while "Marry Me" by The Train played soothingly.

"I know. You told me several times today," I said. "Thank Quinn. She said she's playing my godmother today."

"Then, that makes me your Prince Charming. Doesn't it?" He asked, gazing at my with pure hope. I nodded hesitantly. In truth, I did not desire for a prince charming. I wished for only Santana and even if Santana was the poorest of the paupers, I would have been satisfied.

I laughed as Artie dipped me, feigning a fall.

"You may be a prince, but you are hardly charming." I told him teasingly.

"I am going to drop you." He threatened, pretending to be offended by my statement.

"You won't drop me even if you were tripping over yourself." I assured him even though I carefully gripped onto his shit collar. In truth, I did not want to hit the dirty floor, contaminated with beer spills and smudged food.

"Fine, see." His hands slowly unclasped from my waist and I screamed, desperately hanging on to his wrinkled collar. "Artie! Please, don't!"

"Okay, sorry." He firmly put his hand around me, lifting me up before I fell. I sighed in relief, leaning onto his chest.

However, instantly, he dipped me again, laughing ludicrously as he did.

"Artie, let me go! You can be such a jerk sometimes." I scolded him, pushing Artie off of me. He attempted to follow me in the midst of the heavy crowds.

"I'm sorry. I was just kidding!" He called after me but I continued to storm off. The loud rhythmic beat of the music irritated me, building into my flustered body. I felt a pounding headache slowly creeping into my head. My veins were pumping irregularly, the overwhelming heat steadily pressuring into me. There was no fresh air in the suffocating studio. Remaining there even a moment longer would induce me to faint or worse, vomit. I ran into the obscure night, the dim streetlights hardly luminous enough to radiate the streets. I stopped near the parking lot, attempting to make out even the slightest objects. The rustle of leaves startled me and I leaned back on a metal pole. Cognizant of the murkiness, I had instantly begun to regret stepping out of the studio. The loud music could still be heard from the parking lot, but it did not render me safe. In fact, if I was murdered at this moment, not even Artie could hear my piercing shrills. I looked around, eying the silhouette of the cars to make sure nothing moved.

"I shouldn't have left," I whispered to my self. I stood up from the pole, walking towards the studio. I began to run in the discomforting heels only to twist my ankle. Wincing from the sudden pain, I yelped helplessly. Frustrated, I took off the heels. I continued to run only to realize that my feet was not on the ground anymore. I had abruptly hit against something and soon a stranger wearing a dark over coat had swept me up from the ground and put me over their shoulder. My shoes dropped with a clank and stunned, I watched as I was gaining more and more distance from the abandoned heels. I realized that the stranger was heading towards the opposite direction of the studio. I writhed, beating the mystery persons back rapidly. My legs flailed crazily as I attempted to slip out of the strong grasp.

"Let me go!" I screamed. The defiant figure continued to walk towards the unremitting darkness. I clamored again, clinging onto the coat, but realizing the stranger's familiarity, I impeded my movements. I clasped onto her shirt, sniffing in the similar, enchanting scent.

"San?"

"We seem to have quite a connection Britt. You can even recognize my smell." I felt her shoulders shake from sardonic laughter. Relieved, I stopped moving. I could not comprehend my own actions but fighting against her had steadily obliterated as a legitimate choice. I was prepared to surrender to her even in this utmost inadequate situation.

She threw me into the car seat while she sat in the driver's seat. Rapidly, she drove off without caring if my seatbelt was on. I pushed against the front board to gain balance as she hit the accelerator. She pressed the accelerator again to drive even hastier, hastier than Quinn. My hands shook as I tried to put on the seat belt. I closed my eyes tightly, wishing she would stop the car as soon as possible, but she kept driving.

"If you drive any faster, I am going to throw up on you," I warned her. As if motivated by my premonition, she began to drive in full speed in the middle of the night. I breathed harder, fearing what would occur, but one thing was clear…she was beyond enraged.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked her calmly, but she did not answer. Silently she drove into the caliginous night. When she finally stopped, I opened the window to discover that she had led us to a bridge.

"Get out," she ordered.

"Santana, why are we-

"I ask the questions and you answer." She stated, taking my hand and pulling me out. I winced from the abrupt gesture. Her aggressive behavior should not have startled me, but there was so much more to her rage than vehemence. My perplexity originated from the innovative aura emerging from her.

"You're hurting me," I told her.

"Brittany," she cooed. I shuddered to hear my name. "If I intended to care, I would not be talking to you in this position."

"What-

"I will be asking the questions," she spoke through gritted teeth.

"Why did you go to the dance?"

"Quinn told me to go." I answered meekly.

"Why was he with you, then?" She held my hand tighter. I whimpered from the excruciating pain ascending from my arm.

"I don't know who you are speaking of." I answered hoarsely, breathless from the pain. But of course, I knew who she spoke of.

"Artie! Why was he with you?!" She shouted. I flinched.

"He was my date!" I replied honestly although at this point, it was truly regretful. In this case, I was amplifying her anger, steadily feeding fuel to her feral wrath.

"Date?" She laughed sarcastically again. Suddenly, she pulled me towards the railing of the bridge. She climbed over the railing, prepared to jump from the bridge with me. "Am I nothing to you?!"

"No, you're not!" I lied.

"Tell me the truth. This is as close as you are to living. If I jump'" She trailed off. I perceived her brown eyes, red with tears.

"You won't hurt me," I told her confidently.

"Britt, you are making a huge mistake," she warned. I smiled at her, reaching her face with my other hand. My discombobulating thoughts disappeared as I grew cognizant of her pain. This time, it was more than envy. She was in pain from my rejection but how could I tell her that I was helpless. In this frustrating state of decrepitude, I could not be her because the pain she sense would become far more unbearable.

"I can see your eyes twinkling in the darkness. They speak to me, San. They sing me a lullaby everyday I gaze into them." I spoke gently. "And now, they tell me you are in a painful struggle."

"Stop it!" She cried. "Is he so special for you that you must lie to me?!"

"He is my best friend." I assured her. She shook her head, gripping onto my hand tighter than before. I closed my eyes, suppressing the pain. "Let's jump then, because I will never tell you the truth."

"Why not Britt? Why won't you tell me you love me?!" She pleaded, climbing back over closer to me. Her face was inches away from mine. "I can't breathe without sensing your presence. Every moment, my heart cries for your existence. I long for your sweet embrace. I yearn for your beautiful words uttered solely to me. I am loosing control over myself, because of you! And you won't even look at me without rejecting me!"

"I can't'"

"I am burning in your hell Britt. It's agonizing but I cannot step out even if the wounds are unbearable." She whispered into my ear. "Accept me baby please, before I burn too deep."

"I can't'"

"I am in love with this hell you made. Give me an escape route baby." She begged.

"No," I shook my head, pushing against her away but her grasp was too tight. Silence resonated into the cool air. Tacitly, we remained in this painful position…simply breathing for each other.

"I am so in love with you, Britt britt." She murmured, her lips brushing against my lips. She held me closer releasing her grip on my arm. "But I won't bother you any longer. I will remain in the hell you put me in because even if the pain is too much, that is the only way I can be with you."

She walked towards the car, opening the door. "Get in Britt. I'll drive you home."

Her words were tasteless and bitter as if the burning emotions she possessed a moment ago was switched off instantly for my sake. For me, she would suppress her insufferable pain. So, I ascertained, if she was burning in my hell, I was ready to burn with her. No matter how many self-assurances I gave to my self, the pain she felt now could not be any less excruciating if her reputation, pride, dignity, and wealth was on the line.

Hence, that day, in the murky bridge, I relinquished my morals and blindly succumbed to Santana. In my injured foot, I ran towards her lonely figure. And I could never have felt such placid solace as I embraced her from the back.

"I can't say no any longer to you San," I murmured incoherently into her back, holding her tightly, dampening her shirt with my overflow of tears. But as she placed her hand onto mine, I knew she heard me clearly.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N

Here's another chapter for you guys. I hope it's good..i'm not too sure. i just write fast coz i know how much it sucks waiting for a story to be you guys like it. enjoy.:)

* * *

Hypocrisy does not exist in the presence of love,

For love's necessity becomes ambivalence.

Since the odious reality is scarcely ever asked of,

Cognizance in the midst of love is of no relevance

* * *

"I can't say no to you," I told her. "Please don't make this hard for me."

As Santana realized what I had really intended to say, she released my hands that were clasped tightly around her. However, persisting, my hands remained clasped around her. I forced her to stay immobile so she would listen to my genuine words. For too long these unspoken worlds lingered in my enclosed throat but today these clandestine words would be revealed. There was always so much more than her wealth which induced me to evade her. Although the purpose inadvertently stayed unannounced, I believe she too was conscious of this paramount reason.

"In this moment, I confess my love to you," I said. "You are my first love Santana, my only love. To believe that such surreal love can emerge from fairy tales to become my sudden reality is a blessing my mother, for sure, bestowed upon me. But still, the love you offer me, Santana, I can't dare to accept because dire circumstances leave me weak."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she questioned. Santana attempted to move but I held her tighter…as much as my upper strength allowed. In this moment, she must listen to the words I had once hesitated to even whisper.

"I believe you. I believe in your love for me and I shall reciprocate it until I take my last breath. I also believe that the agony you confront so gallantly is just as true."

The poison, I incepted, was seeping through her skin and debilitating her psychologically. And I was liable for it.

"Don't think I'm weak, Brittany." She warned. Santana had, at last, managed to turn around in my arms regardless of my resistance. I turned away from her fearing the way her eyes could lead my chasteness to shred into pieces. As If I was suddenly unclad in front of her, my emotions unintentionally exposed themselves. She was staring transparently into my soul through the twinkles of my blue eyes and I sensed her reading every breath I took as it translated my heart's dilemma. I lowered my gaze from her intensity; regardless of my efforts, she lifted my gaze to level with her. Her eyes evinced no severity, but it glowered with sheer perplexity.

"I beg of you. Do not look at me that way," I whispered thoughtlessly. She chuckled at my statement, encircling her arm around my waist. As she leaned against her car, I stood like a fragile baby bird, too shy to spread my feral wings. She pulled me slightly closer so I fell in between her legs; my instant attempt to step away failed when she trapped me with her feet.

"Talk to me now," she commanded and I readily submitted.

"I have complete faith in your love but I don't have faith in myself. To watch you surrender your luxurious life for a useless girl like me is almost superficial," I explained, beginning to stumble over my words. "But I know, you will give up your name as long as your heart can be one with mine."

"Yeah Britt, I get your point," She said indifferently. Unable to keep my composure, I pursed my lips, a rush of disappointment running through my veins. A long silence followed before she abruptly brought her lips closed to mine; she placed her lips on my ear, nibbling it gently. I moaned audaciously. The captivating charm, she possessed, drove me to edge. Santana impeded her ministration unexpectedly, blowing away the strands of hair falling lazily on the side of my face. I unconsciously closed my eyes, leaning into her even more. I could now intake her radiating fragrance that escaped into my nostrils. Her scent was my elated level of euphoria; even my physical senses rendered her beautiful.

"Yeah Britt," she spoke huskily. "I'm crazy for you."

Alarmed over her words, I awoke from my serene dream and collected my reasoning. Overcoming my distracted sense, I opened my mouth to speak coherently. Santana covered my lips, her own lips still close to my crimson ears. Heat was diffusing from the pores of my skin as I fought to keep coolness.

"Sssh," she said, dragging the index finger which was covering my lips to trace downwards. Her fingers lazily trailed over my collarbone, dangerously descending downwards. As if teasing, she brought them up again, descending from my shoulder towards my shivering arm. Her fingers intertwined with mine and then, suddenly it was I against the car, pinned down by Santana's entire body. "See how easily you tremble by my simple touch."

"San," I said unable to form comprehensible words with my heavy tongue. My lips parted as did my eyes. I attempted to speak again, but she pulled my head closer to her, clasping me at the nape of my neck. I gasped at her uncalled behavior. Her reckless actions were impossible to predict and my lack of agility forced me to react slowly.

"If you speak one more time," she threatened, her eyes lingering on my parted lips. "I won't hesitate."

"To do what?" I asked, accidentally disregarding her latter words.

"Don't hold me responsible this time. I warned you," she stated before kissing me. I had probably done much more sins than her to hold her responsible for anything. It was I who should be labeled inexcusable because I had dared to kiss her back even as my moral ethics were against it. I questioned my own rules as it slowly changed without my keen eyesight to criticize it. My eyes were too lost in her relentless gaze. To break away from hypnosis was impossible…especially when my heart yearned for it.

I wondered continuously why she kept pursuing me regardless of my repeated rejection. I unremittingly denied her but her perseverance was to such a point that the pain became unbearable to reject her any longer. For a second, I would give into her but the next, I would step away. And I believe that she knew this action. She knew of my uncertainty and hesitancy which never seemed to have accomplished one specific side to uphold. Santana also knew that she, Santana Lopez, made it excruciatingly difficult to decide. How I wished she would make it easier for me by simply letting me go since no matter how much I craved for her presence, I would never be as courageous as to take a step towards her once she stepped away.

If only she surrendered to me, everything would become simplistic.

Santana grumbled against me from frustration. I was not giving into her this time. Stumped over my pursed lips, she attempted to pry my lips open, forcing her lips even deeper. I closed my eyes and silently screamed resistance. Her hand pressed against the nape of my neck and pushed me closer while her hand crawled up my thin layer of my dress. Santana's hand lingered on my waist, caressing it dangerously. I squealed against her lips, the tickling sensation becoming too difficult to withstand. As her hand wrapped around my waist, I finally surrendered, my lips parting slowly, breathing her in.

"Now, was that so hard?" She grinned mischievously before brushing her lips against me, administering open mouth kisses that brought shivers down my spine. Unknowingly, my arms encircled around her neck and I brought her to the closest proximity probable. Steadily, I was moving my tongue with her, dancing in the same rhythm as hers did. She led as I followed willingly. Santana clasped her hand over mine and smiled against my lips. Her fingers ascended up my arm as it jerked from her teasing touch. The soft tips of her fingers grazed over my shoulders and I flinched from her lazy stroke. My arms were bare and so were my shoulder. For her it was an advantageous opportunity to seduce me and for me it was an excuse to yield to her again. So as her fingers trailed down my shoulder towards my chest, I did not resist or cringe. Instead I waited breathlessly for her subsequent act. Although the weather became colder from the tranquil night, I sensed the heat pooling into my stomach that squirmed from the peculiar feeling dancing through my veins and arousing my never awoken senses.

But to my greatest disappointment, she hesitated…hesitated. Santana Lopez hesitated.

Her hand left my bare skin; her lips relinquished mine. When I had believed that it was I who would step away, it was she that had unexpectedly pulled the string connecting us, making visible the undiscovered length of the souls' thread. I gulped watching her turn away from me. Her hand was on her head, scratching away from the discombobulated state she established. I observed her, making no movement whatsoever.

The palpating sensation she injected into me still remained; I was thirsting for her lips and dying for her touch. I wanted her but she had walked away. I let out a frustrated groan and thoughtlessly looked for the zipper in the back of my dress. She turned back to me but I continued to look for the zipper. Once I had found it, I started to unzip my dress. She listened to the sound of the zipper, Santana's eyes slowly widening in shock.

"Brittany!" She shouted. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What you are too afraid to do." I mumbled. I was losing my senses because of her, to the point that I could not breathe without her, let alone accept that she was the one stepping away from me. I was halfway down the zipper when the dress was falling open, exposing my upper torso. She abruptly turned away towards the body of water, slamming her hands against the railing of the bridge.

"Brittany, please cover yourself." She spoke through clenched teeth. "You can be so naive sometimes. You don't even realize what you're doing or feeling. For god's sake, just please, cover yourself!"

Her clamor stupefied me and I stopped unzipping my dress. I stared down at myself, realizing what I was doing…realizing what I was committing to.

If only she surrendered to me, everything would become simplistic…But, in fact, it was I always succumbing to her. Thus, everything would become one level harder.

"Have you-

"Yes," I said hoarsely, my throat enclosed by the lump dilating inside. Tears were already streaming down my eyes, but I tightened my lips angrily. I sat inside the car, waiting for her to enter too. When she did, Santana immediately started the car, heading towards home. A long silence followed but none of us dared to speak. Yet, unsurprisingly, it was she who broke the heavy atmosphere after an excruciating hour.

"It seems that we have both gone too far." She stated.

_Yes, Santana, I have just humiliated myself to the utmost demeaning degree. I am very aware._

"Can you please not speak?"

"Britt," she ignored me and continued to speak. "I can't…I just can't go so far as to affect you're um…how do I put this…innocence."

"I said, stop speaking!"

"Well, why can't you just say yes to me? Because the 'sister' excuse is getting ancient at this point!" She yelled.

"No that's not it. Santana, I…"I trailed off afraid to confront the conversation I never truly discussed with Santana.

"Brittany, speak to me," she demanded.

"Tell me, how can I let you give up your family? How can I allow myself to be the reason for separating you from your mother?"

She did not answer, but I could not comprehend whether it was because we were finally home or she simply wanted to avoid the conversation. But I unfortunately could not find her answer because as we exited the vehicle, we were immediately confronted with another dilemma:

"Santana! You're finally home," Mama shouted from the window. "Come, quickly!"

"Oh no, she's awake." I panicked. She looked at me realizing what situation this puts me in. She came around the car, standing next to me.

"Who is that girl, Santana?!"

I turned around quickly, facing away from the house so that she could not see my face although I doubt she would see me in the darkness.

"Mami, it's my date!" She hollered.

"What's her name?!"

"Br-

"Santana!" I nudged her. She looked at me, grinning mischievously. Although confused, I asked her to name another girl.

She gave out a hearty laugh. "Not until-

"What? Are you serious? You are coming up with a condition?!" Baffled at her mischievousness, I stared at her in disbelief.

"I follow my own rules, Britt. You, specially, should know this very well."

"Says the one who wasn't bold enough to touch me." I muttered, unconsciously. I brought my hand to my lips realizing what I had stated. She was smirking even wider now.

"I could have slept with you if I wanted to, but I have enough decency in me to not."

I bit my lip refusing to answer to this shameful subject.

"Santana?!" She shouted again. "Who's the girl?"

"Go on a date with me." She declared. "One date."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Not really, I'm just telling you" she chuckled naughtily.

"We see each other every day. What more do you want?"

"We don't see each other every day because you're evading me despite my efforts." She pointed out blatantly. "C'mon Brittany. Answer me quickly before I say your beautiful name."

She was not only teasing me, but threatening me as well. Santana was beyond my imagination. Her mischievousness was absurd…utterly absurd.

"Fine." I capitulated, sighing in vain.

"Bruce!" She foolishly yelled out. She looked at me, smiling like an absolute fool. She was still smirking after her sheer idiocy not realizing what she said.

"You idiot!" I nudged her harder this time, extra for her stupidity. "That's a boy's name!"

"Santana that's a boy's name!" Mama shouted from afar.

"Oh," she said, chortling nervously. _Fuck _she cursed under her breath.

This time, we were both in serious trouble.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N

Ok so this is a kind of a long chapter coz i wanted to finish the chapter on a happier note. I hope you guys will like it.. enjoy..

* * *

"Is that Brittany?" Mama squinted, jutting her head out of the window. She strained her neck until she could gain a better view in the vague murkiness. I clasped my hands together, my nails digging into my skin. Standing motionless next to a distraught Santana, I realized that it was too late to evade Mama's ire.

She disappeared from the window and reappeared in the front porch, turning on the lights to better perceive my frightened, drained complexion. Then, suddenly, Santana held my elbow firmly, pulling me to her. I gasped from the abruptness but did not push away from her. I squinted to make out her dark brown eyes which always seemed to illustrate her feelings. Unfortunately, it was too dark to read her eyes, yet I could still see the twinkles radiating from her eyes. And I wondered if it was normal to have such a vast quantity of the tiniest stars shining from one's eyes.

"Britt," she called softly.

"Hmm?"

"I am so sorry," she apologized, her voice breaking into tortured little pieces. I realized, then, that it was not normal to have so many twinkles in an individual's eyes…that is, unless she was crying. She could have feigned another legitimate excuse although she failed to deliver at first with her foolish outburst. It was Santana Lopez, the master of wisdom. She could mend and bend any situation to her accommodating will. However Gloria Lopez possessed much more wrath than Santana…the inevitable wrath that even Santana appeared intimidated by.

Santana Lopez could create countless remedies but today, there was no remedy to repair this situation. The unavoidable situation had closed doors and no windows to escape through. Santana was very much of aware of what would occur once Mama would get a hold of me. For sure, Mama's hands would bleed immensely from the incessant blows she would mercilessly deliver unto me. I would be summoned without any hope for clemency. The only expectation I could possibly hold for the impending doom was that I would survive.

But the pain…I could never anticipate it more. Yet, I prayed that the pain would become so agonizing that my body would become numb from the grave wounds. That way, the forthcoming nightmare could be even one diminutive degree bearable.

"Baby," she cooed again. Santana turned me towards her. Placing her palm on the nape of my neck, Santana pulled me closer towards her. Her lips brushed against my forehead while her fingers pushed away the lazy strands of hair. Her lips lingered there as if hesitant to end this calm moment. I leaned into her, hiding away my face in her warm embrace.

I felt her chest move from exhalation of her breath. She pulled me away and then took my hand in hers. "I promise." She lifted up my pinky and linked her own with mine. Firmly, Santana held it, smiling in the darkness. "I'm not gonna let her hurt you, I'll protect you Britt" she whispered into my ear before we both warily watched mama as she came charging towards us.

"You can't," I spoke, softly chuckling. I turned away from her, staring into the vacancy where Mama's silhouette swiftly came closer. "She is your mother." Silence followed rather rapidly after my statement, confirming my theory: she could never oppose her mother's wishes. And though she may dare to, she would mourn upon her actions subsequently. I pondered over her insight towards the purpose behind mama's ill treatment of me. I questioned her presence during the incident preceding her father's death. I wondered if she blamed me, held me responsible for her father's death. Was I a murderer in her eyes, tainted with the blood of her father? Was I her revenge?

"Get inside the house," Mama said, her guttural voice emerging from the depth of her throat. We complied with her demands, steadily walking back to the house, following in her heavy footsteps. Santana grasped my hands. She glanced towards me, nodding as if affirming an unknown fact. Startled, I looked at her with surprise. Santana smiled, rubbing her thumb against my skin which bled from being pierced with my sharp nails. I flinched then attempted to shake her hand away from me but she remained determined.

Once Mama had finally impeded her steps in the living room, she swerved towards us. I hesitantly met her eyes which as expected, glowed with fury. It was as if her head was a ticking bomb prepared to erupt with one gentle touch. However, her eyes did not meet mine. Instead it moved towards our hands, clasped together by force. I hauled my hand from Santana's, she was too distracted to realize. At this point, her actions were only making the circumstance worse. The degree of mama's anger was progressing to such an impossible level that I feared that my empty hopes were true in its emptiness.

"Why are you with my Daughter?" She asked, suddenly piercing her eyes into mine. I gasped unknowingly, stepping timidly away from her.

"Mama, I-

"She was helping me." Santana answered. My eyes shot towards her, exhibiting a puzzled expression.

"Helping you? With exactly what?" She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Advice. I needed her input on how to get this girl to go out with me." Her words were uttered so indifferently that it scared me if Mama would perceive it as a lie. There was heavy restraint in her voice which would induce anyone to believe that she was hiding the true words behind her artificial ones.

"Santana, why would you need any advice? You've brought so many girls-

"She's different mami. She seems unwilling to be with me." Steadily, her voice gained confidence and her posture straightened with the very familiar certainty. I sighed, gaining composure too.

"Do not ever ask this pesky girl for advice again. She would not know of love if it was handed to her for free," she laughed sarcastically. "After all, she is just an orphan, a bast**d's child."

"Mami!"

I believe it impossible to ever detest Mama even if she had done or stated the most heinous things to me because the exuberant images of her smiling at me would appear immediately. The past Mama would mock me, threaten my conscious to feel guilty for even daring to loathe her since she had done the utmost humane things. She treated me as her own daughter, loving me as her own. I remember that Mama would sing to me every night to put me to sleep. Then, when my eyes would droop low wearily, she would place her hand on my forehead and bless me for a good night of sweet dreams. I often had nightmares of the night my father killed my mother and yet, with an angelic touch of her hand, Mama would dissolve away all the negativity stored in my conscious. The current Mama, no matter the pain she cursed me with, I could never gather the slightest aversion towards because she had given me more love than hate. It may have been in the past but the memories are immortal: difficult to forget.

Yet, the abstract wounds she gave me from her words, addressing me as an orphan, a bast**d's child'.it was excruciating. So, as the tears automatically blurred my vision, I could not withhold it. I felt a tug on my hand and I looked up to recognize an enraged Santana pulling me towards the stairs.

"Leave me," I ordered softly. She proved ignorant of my demands and continued to pull me up the staircase. I turned my watery eyes towards Mama who followed us, hoping to prevent my entrance towards her sanctity. She absolutely despised my going upstairs where essentially her family resided.

"Santana, what are you doing? Why are you taking her upstairs?!" Her shrilling shouting caused me to wince, frightening chills to ride up my spine.

"I will not leave her to die in your hands!" She shouted at her. Her behaviour stupefied me. For the very first time, Santana stood against her beloved mother to protect my weak figure. I wondered if she realized her consequential actions. Was she aware of the undiscovered wrath that would unleash from her mother? How could she be so foolish?

"Fine. Do as you please but know that you will regret this day." Mama's teeth gritted as her eyes narrowed, zooming into an emotionally unstable Santana. I quickly looked away, unable to uphold her intensely painful gaze. Santana did not reply, instead she continued to ascend the staircase, dragging me along. Strangely, Mama was behind us also heading upstairs. When we had all reached the second floor, Mama stood behind me. Santana let go of my hand expecting me to follow her inside her room, but I stood immobile. I turned to Mama whose eyes hovered over me like a hawk ready take its bait.

And hesitantly…softly…I stated my sincerest apology, bowing my head slightly to show my deference. She scoffed at me and pushed passed me to climb one more step. I had lost balance for a second but I thankfully gained composure before I fell down the staircase. Santana reached for me, sighing and stepping back once I had regained stability. However, as Mama stood next to me, she smiled wickedly. For one second, I believed that she was happy I did not fall. But I was wrong.

Extremely wrong.

Her never-ending schemes continued that moment when her hand peculiarly rested on my slumped shoulder.

"Mami, what is it?" Santana questioned.

"Nothing, dear. I need to make myself a little happier," she answered. "May I?"

"O-ofcourse," Santana and I said in unison. She began to giggle in a high pitch tone, eying me deviously. My lips curved too, forming a feigned smile to match hers.

"Thank you, darling." Mama responded to Santana. She giggled again before pushing my shoulder towards the staircase. My hands flailed back and forth as I fell backwards, hitting the edge of steps. I whimpered from the sudden excruciating pain. Yet, the itinerary towards potential death was not over. I toppled, this time, hitting the hilt of my feet against the edge. A crawling, piercing sensation shot up my leg. Then, I fell again, and again, until my face pasted against the floor. For one second, I would like to believe that death seemed justified in this situation…especially when the pain became so unbearable that it induced an ill and faint sensation into the most sensitive core of my brain. I prayed that the pain would become numb enough to maintain even for the shortest duration of time.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I heard Santana shout. "Get the fuck out of my way!" Her footsteps thumped against the floor, shaking the floorboards. When her feet reached the ground, she was next to me, picking up my still figure in her arms.

"Speak to me," she pleaded, tucking the hair strands behind my ear. I did not respond…I could not respond. The agonizing wounds made it immensely hard to move. "Please, Baby." She kissed my forehead again, pulling me into a tight embrace. I wished to reply to her but it hurt to speak. Even her euphonic voice was faint in my enclosed ears. I attempted to open my eyes but my heavy lids refused to comply, so I let the pain take over me. Santana pulled me away, holding her index finger over my nose.

"Why aren't you breathing Britt?" I heard faintly. Had I forgotten to breathe? "Dammit, Brittany. Breathe!"

"Since when did you care about her?" Mama screamed form upstairs.

"Go to your room, Mami. You're drunk. Just fucking leave now" she muttered coldly. "Brittany, baby, please talk to me." I parted my lips slowly, letting a wounded moan escape from my lips. I heard her laugh, still pushing away the loose strands away. She was relieved to see me still alive.

"Let me take you to the hospital." She said before lifting me up.

As she carried me, I was a princess floating in the seventh heaven. Steadily, I realized that I had become her Cinderella without my declaration of such necessity. It was as if no matter how many times I would protest for her to let me go, she would, if forcefully needed, be my princess. Yet, unfortunately, she was not my fairy tale princess. Santana was the dark princess set on ruining me, shedding me until she attained her sick pleasure. Her sick pleasure which I shamelessly began to desire for. I could not put a name to her love for me because her questionable love was out of my jurisdiction. Her love, however, I can confidently state, was not the purest of all. To merge our souls from what they were destined to be…such a rebellion…it was impossible to make it pure. It was tainted with the curse of too many adversaries. As Santana had confessed, she was burning in hell. But how foolish she was: it was hardly just her that seethed in the merciless flames. We were both burning inevitably.

"Just hold on, Brittany," her voice was enclosing and I began to meander in the longest dream. "I won't let her hurt you anymore." I believed that she would fall once her own weakness came into question: her beloved mother. I was wrong. How blind I had become in my own prejudice world. I did not perceive who Santana had become for the sake of me, the forlorn Brittany Pierce. Although the pain was unbearable, in her arms, even the greatest wounds would subside. In her arms, she lifted me up to become the strength I lost. If there was no tomorrow for me, I would still live because it was she raising me, pushing me to aspire. She was bestowing upon me the faith I was relinquishing. I was satisfied with death if the dark spirits decided to at last take me away from the hell in reality. Yet, it was refusing to liberate me because of Santana. Persistently, she held onto my heart. She secured the heart so as to hinder its failure.

For once, I wanted to throw away the shell I forced myself into. I wished to let her lead me away. No more protest would be needed because I would succumb to her…just this once. Dazed in this misty cloud, I diminished every ounce of conscious and allowed her to lead me. Was it the pain that induced me into such a state? Was it the painful drowsiness that induced me into such a state?

"I won't let her hurt you, anymore baby," she repeated, taking me towards the door. The lethargy was finally cleared and the desire to remain in her arms ebbed away. I slowly opened my eyes, closing it again to feel droplets pouring onto my lids. She was crying again. I could not deny…I was the reason.

"You're gonna be fine baby, I promise." She whispered.

For a little longer, I wanted to be in her valiant arms. Selfishly, I wished to see her shed tears for me. For a little longer, I wished to be loved.

But…It was wrong.

"No," I croaked. "No more'"

"Baby?" She stopped to look down at me. "You're awake."

"No more promises," I continued, opening my eyes a second time. "No more."

"I am taking you-

"Let me go," I ordered weakly. In my state of decrepitude, I was pushing against her so that she would free me. "Leave me." I blinked several times to see through the blood trickling down over my eyes.

"Brittany, please." She protested.

"Leave me!" I was yelling as loud as I could through my fragile state, but she knew how to take advantage of my state because she was holding onto me as tightly as possible. My head pounded from pain. I was still half unconscious.

"No," she said curtly. "You have to listen."

"Let. Me. Go!" I screamed.

I pushed again, this time succeeding. I thumped against the ground. She bent down to pick me up again, but through the soreness, I resisted. I would not let her be my strength or hope, for then I would helplessly fall deeper in love. I would not allow her to do this to me. Once I found sensation in my knees, I crawled away from her as she watched me. She bent down to take my hand but I slapped her hand away. I attempted to rise to my feet, but the surface quivered under me and I fell in syncope. My head was hurting as colours shot into my eyes. I winced but awoke before a potential languor. She captured me before my head hit the ground again, but I squirmed against her grip. I would not let her rescue me again. Not anymore.

"Britt, just let me take you to the hospital," she cried. I made my way to the set of staircase leading to the basement. Holding onto the railing, I descended the staircase, her footsteps falling behind me. I ignored her presence while I leaned against the wall, heading to the door.

"I can take you by force." She threatened.

I turned around to observe her once more, but it was difficult to comprehend her expression through my dizziness. However, I gathered enough strength to push her away before closing the door behind me. She knocked, slamming mercilessly on the weak door. I flinched from the harsh rhythm. "Open the door!"

"No," I said weakly, dragging myself down the wall adjoining the door.

"Dammit, Brittany! Why can't you listen to me?!"

"I can't, " I whispered.

"Fine! If that's what you want…do as you wish!" She shouted. Silence did not follow this time. She knocked again.

"No, no. You can't do this to me!" She whimpered. "Baby, please don't leave me."

"I have to," I sighed, dragging myself away from the door. I settled against the bean bag, resting my head.

"Fine, you can leave me. You can forget me. You can hate me! But…let me stay by your side. I will not ask for anything in return," she pleaded. The affliction in my head returned conquering my reasoning. Her voice was dying away. I heard her voice one last time, muttering words to herself. "Where the hell is the spare key?" Santana asked herself. "Brittany? I will not permit your abandonment."

* * *

The moment I heard the irritating beeping sound of the heart monitor, I realized that she had managed to get me to the hospital. I opened my eyes, blinking several times before accommodating to the light. I looked at my wrist, a syringe seeped into it. I removed the oxygen mask, prepared to rise. However, I heard her voice in the distant, behind the closed doors. She was speaking to Grandma. I listened warily.

"Abuela," she said. "I need your help."

"She's gone crazy."

Was she speaking of me?

"Brittany can't stay in the house anymore. It's too dangerous. She is drinking more, screaming more."

She was speaking about Mama.

"I know this is not new, but it hurts Abuela," she pleaded into the phone. It was for the second time, today, I heard her voice so meek. "You have to take her away."

She wished to send me away to a safer place. Santana's intentions were so simple at this point. In Grandma's place, I would be secure from mother's abuse.

"Please, abuela. I need you to understand." She pleaded. "She's going to die if she stays any longer."

"She pushed Brittany down the stairs today. How can I be any more patient?! She's lost it. I cannot trust Mami in Brittany's presence."

"Thank you. Come soon, Abuela."

The door knob was twisting again. I abruptly laid my head down, hitting against the metal headboard. I winced, moaning from the pain. Santana rushed to my side, holding my head while I groaned from the sudden injury.

"Dork," she said. "You were listening, weren't you?"

"N-no," I stuttered, opening one eye to see the grin pasted on her face.

"I'll pack your things and send it to her house."

"What if'" I trailed off, moving my hands to her shirt. Perplexed, she followed my behaviour, watching me as I opened and closed my eyes. "What if I don't want to?"

"I told you baby," she placed her hand over mine, stopping me from unbuttoning her shirt. "I won't let you leave me."

"But I have to," I said, turning to the side so she could not see the tears trickling down my cheeks. She pushed my shoulder down so I was lying straight.

"Britt, you don't get it, do you?" She chuckled, caressing my cheek with her hand. She rubbed her thumb against my cheekbone. Santana bent down, so she was millimetres away from my lips. I gasped, looking at the heart monitor which slowly rose. She grinned, content that the heart monitor exposed my feelings. She moved a little closer while I tried to turn my head away. She forced me to look her direction before kissing me aggressively. Santana pried my lips open, exploring my mouth to her own satisfaction. I hesitantly bit her tongue hard enough for her to move away from me.

"Fuck. Did you just bite my tongue?!" She mumbled, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Stop kissing me," I demanded. Santana looked at me for a second before exhaling an irritated breath.

"Brittany, listen carefully," she said, enclosing again the distance between us. I lifted my hands to push her away, but she held my hands in a tight grasp. I writhed against grip but impeded my resistance, seeing the intensity in her eyes. She smirked mischievously, shaking her head as if labelling me obtuse.

"Do what you have to, but I will do what I wish to. What I do not permit, I will reach to the highest degrees until I assure that it will not be done," she threatened. She took my hands closer to her lips, kissing them lightly.

Her eyes pierced into my soul, and I watched, as lust changed to love then to bitterness.

"From now on, think of me as your enemy," she declared.

* * *

Santana's POV

"Thank you, Grandma. You really didn't have to come all the way here." Brittany held onto abuela for a lingering moment so she could wipe her tears away without Grandma's knowledge.

Turning away from their ridiculous melodrama, I scoffed at her. Brittany noticed, heaving a pitiful sigh. How sickening she was, being so innocently sincere to Abuela. They shared a bond even greater than abuela and I. It is my theory that the only reason Brittany continued to rebuff my constant attempts is merely because she does not wish to risk a rift between abuela and her.

But I know my abuela. She would never disapprove my doing. In fact, even if she disapproved, abuela would support me regardless. My fortune may have been balanced through a drunkard mother and affluent fame, but it leaned towards a brighter side once I perceived my abuela in the picture. As a teenager, it was she that gave me love in replace of my heartbroken mother. I wondered how she remained so valiant in her old, fatigable body when my own mother could barely cope with herself. Either way, abuela had shown me that no good could possibly come in showing frailty.

And it sickened me that the girl I fell in love with was the Queen of frailty.

It was only for Brittany's sake, I resisted telling my abuela. Otherwise, the clandestine and bitter truth of us would be exploited by the fearless me, Santana Lopez. Abuela would never disapprove of us.

"Grandma, I'm getting discharged today," she notified. I let out a sarcastic laugh, recalling her supposed discharge. Brittany had pleaded the doctor to let her go. There was some hint of iniquity in her actions as she utilized her instrumental veil of innocence. She knew the young doctor had taken an instant affinity towards her. How easy it was for her to manipulate him after giving him an unnecessary dose of her prolonged embrace.

She was sickening. And I was thick enough to love her.

"Would you please come home with me?" Brittany asked.

Of course she did. Her Grandma was her best friend whom she told her deepest secrets too, well except, our secret. Yet, Brittany would never complain of my mother's wrongdoings. She would take it in like a sponge and squeeze out all her oozing pain until she could feign happiness.

"I have so much to tell you," She stated in excitement.

"Most definitely," abuela replied. "You also need to tell me about Artie!"

Artie.

That vulgar…shoddy…obscene…idiotic playboy?! How could my own Abuela do this to me?!

I rolled my fists and dug my nails into my bare palm which began to bleed immediately though my nails hardly long. I glared at a bubbly Brittany refusing to handle a conversation about the odious boy.

I was so much better than he!

"Oh, Grandma. Of course I will." Brittany looked at me over Abuela's head before continuing." He took me to the dance in my school actually."

"How romantic! Did he dance with you?"

"Yes he did. We dance in the midst of the crowd. Artie was so romantic, Grandma. He even said he'll drop me so I would hold on to him tighter," Brittany– irritatingly– gushed. Abuela laughed along.

Out of annoyance, I walked closer to them, catching their attention.

"I don't see how that is romantic. He seems like a player to me." I said pompously.

"He treats me better than you treat half of the girls coming out of your room. I bet you don't know most of their names," Brittany retaliated. Surprised at her sudden assertion, I noticed her infuriated expression. Her upper lip extended out to cover her bottom lip while Brittany's forehead wrinkled immensely. Brittany's cheeks bulged out making it chubbier than before. With her narrowed eyes, she glared at me with the utmost cutest nature causing me to smile instead of grow irritated.

I grinned and replied, "You come out of my room. I know your name."

Her mouth fell open but she quickly closed it. Brittany turned to glance at Abuela with a sense of panic.

I grinned, glad I won another round. I am the last person she should adversely mingle with.

"She's joking, Grandma." Brittany excused with a nervous laugh.

"I know, dear." Abuela patted her back and told to get ready to go home. Brittany nodded her head, steadily removing her covers so she could sit up. Abuela stepped out explaining that she needed to speak with the doctor about signing papers. I scoffed again remembering her pleading the doctor not to tell Abuela about her still ill condition.

Noticing her feeble state, I offered to take her belongings but she pushed me away impertinently. She exclaimed that she did not need my help.

Smirking over her foolishness, I stood beside her with my hands folded. Brittany was temporarily handicapped considering she had a broken leg, a broken arm, and a faint conscious.

She needed my help.

She needed me.

I watched her struggle to pick up her things while she attempted to balance and hold her bag at the same time. Brittany groaned form frustration unable to manage anything.

"You sure look like you don't need help, " I said sarcastically. With pride, I stood hovering over fragility.

"No. I will call the nurse," Brittany said hopping towards the Call button.

"Why don't you want my help? What the hell is wrong with me?" I pulled her to me and she fell into my arms from imbalance.

"I do not wish to seek your help," she declared bluntly. I chuckled softly watching her struggle. Brittany writhed against me. Slowly, I traced her face with my index finger. She impeded abruptly as I neared her chin. Gently, I lifted her face so she could meet my eyes.

"Only an hour ago, you were unbuttoning my shirt. Forget about that, the hospital's advanced technology even managed to expose you further." I whispered to her. She attempted to avert from my gaze but forcefully, I compelled her to look at me. Frustrated, she whimpered as if my eyes cast a peculiar spell on her.

"It's a habit. I tend to play with things when I am nervous."

"Oh, so you were nervous." She was the most facile creature to manipulate. Her actions could only leave me in awe.

"Y-yes."

"Tell me, why you were looking so endearingly at me when speaking of your 'best friend'." I inquired, enclosing the little distance we possessed. She gasped automatically, biting her lip skittishly.

"I don't know–

Brittany yelped as I dipped her suddenly. She flinched, completely startled in her dreadful position. "Was this how he 'almost' dropped you?"

"Santana, please, stop it."

"Do you find this romantic?" I asked bitterly, fuming with envy. "What if I let you go? Will you clutch onto me? Unfortunately, you only have one hand to hold on to me with."

"Please, San," Brittany was shedding tears at this moment. If I dropped her, her leg would only ache more and her head already injured, may suffer severely at most. My heart wrenched but sharing no clemency towards myself, I continued the torture. I let her go…praying silently she would be able to hang on with one hand. She cried even louder and I feigned a mischievous grin.

Thankfully, she did successfully hold me.

"Tell me, Brittany. Why don't you want my help?" I interrogated in a fatal position.

"You said, you are my enemy." She answered. I blinked remembering that I had spoken such words and that, completely out of my awareness. Flustered, I picked her up in a standing position. She heaved a relieved sigh.

"Fine, treat me as your enemy. I am warning you however." She tried to move away but I held her firmly to me. "You chose the wrong person to clash with. Santana Lopez attains what he desires, whether it is your love…or something more."

I released her so she was pushed back. Brittany fell onto the bed. Fuming, I took her belongings and threw it across the bed. It smashed against the wall before falling limply on the ground. She called my name but in vain, as I ignored her walking out the doorway.

Since I had already packed Brittany's bag as she lay unconscious in the hospital, Brittany had no choice but to leave Lopez Mansion. Although I knew she did not wish to leave, Brittany was forced to leave by me and Abuela.

I wondered what had hindered her decision to leave. Mami had never treated her well so there was no expectation of love or solace. As for me, Brittany wished to be as far away from me as possible. In a way, being with Grandma was beneficial to her and the exact opposite for me.

What she did not know, however, is that I would soon move in with Abuela and her, alleging that it was a vacation visit. At this point, I could not imagine the long duration of time I would spent without Brittany's presence. As of now, it did not matter whether Brittany detested me for the antipathetic actions I burdened her with. My love would be enough to overpower her lack.

And possibly…it may alter her mind to be with me. Even if I must wait for the longest time, I would. The love I felt for her conquered my soul. I could not even control this potent sensation. The actions I was capable brought fear into me. But for her, I would do the sweetest perilous deed ever imagined. Even if by fear, I will claim her as mine.

From the second floor, standing next to my younger brother James, I observed her as she neared my mami who swayed unconsciously on the sofa, a glass of vodka in her hand.

"Mama, I'" Brittany trailed off. Even though I could not see past her slumped shoulders and bowed head, I could make out her distressed aura. Abuela stood near the door, prepared to leave without saying goodbye to my mother. I could not vindicate Abuela for her lack of concern. Mother had now exceeded the level of pity and tragedy. Now, she was ruthless.

"Why are you annoying me?! Get out!" She ordered, pouring another glass.

"I am leaving this house," Brittany stated almost too quickly. Mami stopped pouring her drink, setting down the bottle. The empty glass she played with in her hand.

"She's leaving? Who's going to take care of me?" James muttered to himself. I patted him, knowing that even if he never admitted it, he would miss Brittany.

"Leaving? Without my permission?" Mami pierced her eyes into a timid Brittany.

"Brittany, dear, let's go." Abuela said from the door.

Mami stood up abruptly then stilled, her eyes scrutinizing Brittany. "After all you put me through, you are leaving like this! Shameless! So shameless!"

"Mama, I promise to pay for all the expenses within time. Look, I kept everything in this book," She rushed to flip her book and show Mami her management. I was surprised that Brittany had kept track of all the money she owed Mother. Did she know that Mami would ask for money in return of her leaving?

"This book can go to hell! Give me back my husband!"

With a glass in her hand, gripped so tightly…after what she had done to Brittany only a few days ago…I was afraid of what she was capable of.

"James, it's pretty sad. You never even treated her nicely and she's leaving you forever." I told him, sighing sullenly to emphasize. Internally, my heart was exploding with trepidation.

"Sanny, is she leaving because of me?" James was on the verge of tears, realizing that his big sister was saying goodbye.

"Maybe. Don't you want to give her a goodbye present at least?" I asked, my eyes moving quickly from him to Mother who had now smashed the glass in her hand against the table so it contained hazardous sharp edges. A rush of apprehension ran through me as she advanced towards Brittany. "On the count of three, yell out in pain. Say that your stomach hurts a lot. Okay?"

"But why-

"Just do it, James!" I glared at him and he turned to Mother, finally aware of my intention. He nodded.

Mother extended her elbow, prepared to stab Brittany. Abuela watched motionless, yelping out in her atrocious situation. Even as she ran towards Brittany, she would not make it in time.

"Now." I said after counting to three. James' shrill ricocheted across the wall and Mother stopped her actions to stare up at James. Pretending to seem worried, I bent down beside James .

"Jamie, sweetheart. What happened?" She shouted.

"Mami! My stomach hurts! Help me, mom!" James cried. I whispered a thank you to him and he smiled at me secretly.

* * *

Brittany's POV

It's been three weeks. I know I should be ecstatic to leave Lopez Mansion. At last, now I was liberated from the horror of Mama. I could breathe as I pleased and walk as I found suited because there was no threat of disappointing Mama. I could relax languidly without the frightening expectancy of Mama beating me for simply moving. It's been satisfyingly long since Mama had attempted to feed me to the devils of death. Yet, truthfully, I would cope with her abuse like always…as long as Santana remained close to me.

I was thirsting for her daily dosage of wrath. How many tricks had she pulled on me to force me to deceive my morals? Her love was perilous in a peculiar way, seducing me in its deceit. But I was accustomed to her rage, her possessive and barbaric nature. My heart knew her more than I could realize and now, it pounded for her, beating in sync with her. The long distance was driving it to a discomforting edge, prepared to halt if her presence was not nearby. I had believed that by clearing the appearance of Santana, my heart would soon clear the desire for her. I wished to escape from her, forget her, and even hate her. Although I had convinced Santana of my feigned hatred towards her, I could not persuade myself of antagonizing Santana. How wrong it was to fall for a woman the society knew as my sister.

However, in the end, I was reprehensible for such misdeed because I dared to cross the forbidden line that distinguished affinity to akin. It may be possible to step away and realize the mistake I committed, but its difficulty was incessant. I dared to cross the line and consequentially, it was nearly impossible to return.

I needed her. Desperately.

"Is it true, Brittany?" Grandma was sitting next to me, a furious expression implanted into her face. I tried to sit up from my bed but she pushed me back down. Then, I realized: she was not angry; she was worried.

"What is it?" I asked, smiling but my chapped lips stung immediately as I stretched it.

"You were discharged without the doctor's approval." She revealed. I laughed, coughing as I did. She let out a frustrated groan, hurrying to the table to pour me a glass of water.

"You don't have to, Grandma. I am f–

"Do not speak to me. After all I have done for you, you betray me. " She was crying as she watched me gulp down the water. Once I finished drinking, I looked at her, a serious expression forming.

"Grandma, you are overly exaggerating." I told her hoping that her anxiety would alleviate soon enough.

"The doctor told me you begged him to let you go." She said. "Tell me your reason and it better be logical."

"I don't have insurance." I sighed. "I'd rather not–

"That's it?! Insurance. Oh, dear God, what shall I do with this child?" She cried out. "We are going back to the hospital right this moment. God knows, you may have an infection somewhere."

"I am–

"Do not say it, Brittany. I cannot even talk to you anymore." She walked away, the phone in her hand as she dialled the hospital number.

"Grandma! Please, just listen."

"You are going to the hospital."

"Can we wait one more day?"

"Why?"

"I…I want to go to school. It's the last day before fall semester ends." I explained.

"So, it should not matter."

"There are tests I need to take." I answered quickly.

"Is it absolutely necessary?"

"Of course. Please? Just one day?"

"All right. One day." She told me, returning to my bedside. She kissed my forehead, muttering good night. "Let me know if you need anything. Remember to take your medicine before you go in the morning."

"I will," I responded, smiling.

"And check your temperature. Hopefully, it will go to normal." She prayed. I chuckled, nodding in response.

"Don't worry, Grandma. One day won't hurt me."

She shook her head before scolding me for my lack of care. I continued to smile. What more could I ask for when I already had such a caring grandmother? She loved me more than I could ever love myself. Before she at last stepped out of my room, Grandma drilled me with another bundle of questions about my health. I answered positively even though my fever was melting into the pores of my bare skin, even though my throat was aching in its soreness, and even though my nose and eyes running incessantly. She was too kind to me and I could not accept anymore of her tears. The frail and magnanimous woman Grandma already was, an anxiety attack from her could lead to something worse. I could not lose my only mother figure. After all, she was the luminosity to my darkness. In fact, Grandma should be sufficient enough for my life.

Still, however, I was unthankful and selfish…wishing for Santana. But I would see her the next day in college. After three weeks of suffering, I would finally satisfy my addiction. Finally.

I could almost imagine her satisfaction to find she has totally conquered every inch of me to the point that breathing became impossible without her. I could not let her win.

So, I intended to deceive her eyes.

"You studied?" Quinn asked. I nodded dazedly, peering into the smallest corners to find Santana. Did she even come? I doubted.

Though dubious, I prayed desperately for her appearance. I craved just one emergence of Santana for the sake of my restless heart. Quinn stared at me with suspicious eyes, following my eyes to every place they skimmed. She shook her head, tapping me in annoyance. I ignored her call and departed from her with a lazy goodbye. Hopeless, I perused through the crowds, people delivering dirty glances aggravatingly as I pushed through them. I paid no heed to their irritated eyes; I looked for the one specific pair of eyes, dark and bitter, twinkling in the strangest times and narrowing in the gravest moments. But, in vain. She was nowhere to be found.

Tears were oozing out of my eyes. I disregarded my own unremitting tears and feverish sensation. Instead, I took the greatest measures to attain my goal…I stood up on the thin rail which was instrumental in gripping for balance when going down the staircase. The crowd surrounded me, whispering "crazy", "idiot", and words I never knew existed.

Careless, I simply peered into the mob to find Santana. It was one second. One second…before I found myself falling. I sighed, closing my eyes without even attempting to regain balance as I knew that I would fall regardless. I did not fall. Somehow, I found myself floating, held by two robust arms. The illness seemed to have ridden into the control center of my brain since all that repeated in me was Santana's name…over and over again. Before I opened my eyes, I yelled out her name again, "Santana," hoping to find her there in front of me.

"Think again."

I opened my eyes, noticing Artie's bubbly face hovering over me. I feigned a smile before asking him to put me down.

"You know, it's pretty strange to hear you say your sister's name. What, does she usually rescue you from harm's way?" He said jokingly.

"Yes, actually, she does exactly that." I mumbled. "Did you see her?"

"Nope." He shrugged. Disappointed, I attempted to move forward into the crowd but he held my hand, pulling me into him. "What, no hug?"

"Right, of course." I embraced him quickly, attempting once again to break away. He held on tighter, smiling mischievously.

"No 'thank you'? I did rescue you." Artie raised his eyebrow, gazing at me iniquitously.

I chuckled softly, giving him my gratitude. "May I leave now?"

"You really are air-headed today. You look sick. Shouldn't you be home?" His face steadily changed, turning serious. This time it was my turn to shrug, praying he would buy my nonchalance. Thankfully, he did.

"I really have to go take my exam. I'll see you after class," I lied as I ran off. Once Artie has blurred away from my sight, I noticed the tears devouring my vision. Solemn in my failure, I continued to search for her nevertheless'.

My eyes did not find her as I had hoped so. It was my ears that had heard her name, faintly whispered. I abruptly turned to find her back facing me. My breath had caught in my throat but I dared to run towards her regardless. It was not my own health I worried for…not when my addictive yearning seemed so close to me. Breathless, I impeded my steps a few inches from her. Santana did not notice me.

She was occupied in chatting with her tight knit group of friends who appeared as arrogant as her. Typically, Santana was secluded: the girls who stole glances at her, peeked at her from afar, refusing to take such a broad initiative as to be even an inch from her.

I was beginning to see Santana in the similar perspective as the girls…discouraging myself from greeting her.

Hence, I did what the timid would do…I hid behind the pillar, standing on opposing ends from her. Against the pillar, I could feel the silence emitting between us. She was so far yet so close: it agonized me.

I heard her husky voice speaking in a low tone to her fellows.

I sensed her breath synchronizing with my heart beat.

Solace lovingly enveloped my heart. I smiled, closing my eyes.

"Dude, where is your jacket?"

It was the interjection from her friend that awakened me. I opened my eyes as my insecurities forced me to curl even tighter into the pillar's narrow shape so my hands or legs weren't jutting out suspiciously.

"No idea. I'll survive. It's not that cold." Santana responded, returning back to her conversation about Roman History of Julius Caesar's death during the Ides of March.

A jacket laid on the marble floor of the university. It was black jacket…the same jacket I recalled Santana wearing the night of the dance. I stealthily bent down to pick it up in my hands. I blankly blinked my eyes at it for a mere second before bringing it up to my curious nose.

Her familiar peppermint, vanilla scent gushed through my nostrils, inducing me to enhance my restlessness as the comforting fragrance caressed me. I leaned my cheek against the scarf…mostly because my head was spinning rapidly. I lifted myself from the wall, tripping my way to the exit gates.

My longing was at last fulfilled. Even though I wished to be in her arms hearing her singsong murmurs, I was adequately satisfied with the jacket in my hand and the monotone words she grumbled to her acquaintances.

I was satisfied enough to finally lie on the hospital bed and succumb to my illness…whatever it was.

In the end, I did not triumph in my itinerary towards the gates; I was falling, again, prepared to hit the ground this time. Fainting did not seem so absurd then. I would swoon effervescently acknowledging my acceptable happily ever after: the reminiscence of Santana, a black leather jacket

However, notwithstanding that it was enough for me, it was deficient for the altruistic Almighty; instead of falling onto the grassy, sullied ground of the campus, I had somehow ended up in two valiant arms that grasped my body safely.

"Dork," I heard. "I am not a celebrity. You don't have to sneak behind a pillar to see me."

"Santana," I realized, encircling my arms around her.

"If you were this desperate, you could have just called me." She said haughtily. I opened my eyes to see her. She was the same, the same Santana Lopez I fell in love with.

"You called so many times, yet you still did not speak to me."

"I am your enemy, remember?" She stated, grinning friskily.

"Right," I agreed. "That is why I was spying on you."

"Of course you were." Her chuckles erupted from her chest. Through her pure white blouse, I leaned in to hear her steady heartbeat. It was not steady at all. It thumped as rapidly as mine.

"Your smell is intoxicating." I muttered. She laughed again.

"You mean you can't resist me?"

"No, I mean you just smell nice." I said incoherently as I placed my lips against her revealing chest. For some reason, she never managed to button up full way.

"People are staring and you're probably making it hard for them to believe you are supposed to be my sister."

"I don't care," I snapped sensing the walls close around my perception.

"Dork," I heard her say once more while she exhaled a deep breath. "Just remember what you said. I will not spare you for finally agreeing with me."

Unable to retaliate, I drifted off to a solemn sleep. As I dreamed, I felt her lips softly graze my forehead, mouthing "I missed you baby" against my skin.

I missed you too.


	14. Chapter 14

These three words have been said

Yet not in the desperate manner I will say

For this confession which hangs by a thin thread

Will at last tie us together in the most loving way

* * *

After Santana had gently set me in the passenger's seat, she sat in the driver's seat already starting the engine. I opened my eyes watching her as she drove, her forehead wrinkled with concentration.

"Stop staring Brittany," she ordered curtly.

"Are you taking me to the hospital?" I asked ignoring her statement. She nodded. I exhaled a shuddering breath, looking to her with pleading eyes. "Can't we…can't we…"

I trailed off unable to conjure up a legitimate way of asking her to stay with me a little longer. She would not remain with me in the hospital, I knew. Instead Santana would call Grandma and leave once she arrived. How could I tell her my desperateness in wishing to be with her? For so many days, I suffered as her yearning presence remained missing. Now that I found her so close to her, it was not enough. I wanted her closer. I wanted her longer.

"Go on Britt," she urged.

My soul revolved around hers, waiting for her command to assist me. Without her, I could no longer assist myself, as I had lost all the care for who I was. How could I possibly explain this to her?

"Will you be staying with me?" I asked meekly.

"I sent Abuela a text already. She should be arriving shortly." She answered…without truly even answering.

"Why can't you…" I bit my lip wondering why of all times, it was this moment I could not speak coherently.

"We're here," she stated as if Santana could not hear the hesitancy in my voice. I opened the door to stand up but found the earth trembling underneath me. I hastily gripped onto the car door, hoping to get a firm grip…I could not. Santana had stridden over to my side of the car, picking me up indefatigably before walking into the hospital. I sighed realizing that now was hardly the moment to claim I was strong enough to uphold myself. Her aid was necessary.

"You're angry." I said, unable to avert my eyes from her humorless complexion.

"well done captain obvious," she muttered.

"But why?" I inquired in my naivety.

"I can't believe I fell in love with an idiot." Santana mumbled. I smiled to myself, reassured that she still loved me as I did. She seemed to have always declared her love for me, but it could never become monotonous to me. It was her declaration of love that induced butterflies to flutter their wings in my restless heart. I could never be accustomed to it. Her beautiful confession were like an euphonic lullaby singing in my awakening ears. The three worded song caused me to fall in love with her repeatedly as if every day was a new moment for affinity.

"I didn't hear you. Can you say it again?" I lied.

"Nothing," she grumbled.

"No, I want to hear it. Say it again," I pouted.

"I said, I can't believe I fell in love with an idiot," she repeated, absolutely annoyed by my odd persistency.

"Oh." My lips curved to form a smile. At that moment, I was selfish for my own pleasure, Santana. Was it the long duration of distance that made me so anxious for her?

Santana stopped near the reception desk, asking for assistance. Once the nurse was done checking my file, she set me down on a wheelchair and directed me to a room. It would be long before they discharged me, now that I had come a second time for the same injury with new symptoms.

"Abuela should be coming soon," She told me, comfortingly resting her hand on my shoulder.

"I want you to stay with me," I spoke timidly, hoping she did not listen.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," I replied as the nurse took me away from the desk and towards my room.

The doctor came in shortly once I had settled on my bed. He was ecstatic to see that it was I once again assigned to him.

"It is such a pleasure to see you again," he said, setting down his clipboard and walking towards me. He sat beside my bed and took my hand in his. I smiled even though the discomfort of having him so near me was painful.

"It is nice to see you too," I responded, inching away from him.

"You are more beautiful than ever." His head lowered onto my hand, kissing it gently. I shivered uneasily, detesting the doctor's superfluous magnanimity.

"So, what you're saying is it is an absolute pleasure to see her in the hospital again, sicker than before and she is more beautiful looking ill, than she is looking well. Am I right?" Santana was leaning against the door, eying the doctor with immense bitterness. Clearing his throat, the doctor stood up. He glanced at Santana with similar ode.

"She is very cynical," I apologized. The doctor smiled at me, nodding to evince his understanding.

"I can see that." He stated resentfully. "Let me do a check up and then we will do further examination."

I sat up and waited for him to start the procedure. Santana watched, her scrutinizing eyes embedding into the doctor. Even the doctor was getting irritated over her motionless eyes drilling into him.

"Let me check your temperature first," The doctor said, putting the device into my ear. Once it beeped, he took it off.

"Is it high?"

"Yes, very. I cannot believe you are still conscious." The doctor shook his head. His hands reached the hem of my shirt, prepared to lift it so he could slip the stethoscope in. Santana immediately ran towards my bed, grabbing the doctor's hand.

"A nurse can do this." She declared. The doctor attempted to free his hand but Santana held it tight enough to make it impossible.

"The nurse can also kick you out for interfering with my job," the doctor's teeth gritted. He was clearly irritated to the utmost gradation.

"I would rather the nurse do this too. I don't feel comfortable. You understand, right?" I asked the doctor, smiling innocently. Santana grinned, satisfied that she had won against the doctor…the doctor whose job was truly to examine me. What had gotten into her?

"I will send the nurse in. We'll see each other again once the examinations are in," he smiled politely though I could feel his rage overpowering him. He glared at Santana before departing from the room.

"He is a doctor. It's his job!" I scolded.

"He is a pervert. I bet the only reason he became a doctor is so he could lift patients' shirt up to supposedly 'examine' them." She sat on the couch next to the bed, closing her eyes to show her apathy.

"Even the men?"

"Britt he is an OBGYN. Unless guys have progesterone in their system, I don't think he would be dealing with any male patients." She answered pompously.

"How do you even know he is an OBGYN? You are being ridiculous." I laughed sarcastically. Her haughtiness crept into me with such annoyance that it drove me mental at times. Could she not agree for once that she was being unnecessarily overprotective and maybe a little jealous?

"So you would say. You seem to like the fact that he's wooing you."

"Yes, in fact, he is very handsome." I stated to infuriate her.

There was silence, a dreadful silence, that rendered me to hear my steady heart beats amplifying stealthily. As she stood up from the sofa and narrowed the distance between her and me, I realized that my heart was missing beats and thumping with grave irregularity. I gulped creating distance while she diminished it.

"Say it again," she whispered in such eerie manner.

"He's very handsome, "I stuttered.

"How funny. Only a second ago, you were telling me to stay with you." She grinned, taking my hand, the same hand the doctor had.

"You heard me?" I inquired shockingly.

"I have good ears baby." Santana grazed her thumb against my hand as if wiping away the doctor's kiss. "So, tell me now…"

She placed her lips on my hand, lingering there before moving her lips to my palm. I quivered, my eyes drifting close. I moaned as her lips brushed against my fingers, moving up my bare hand. I resisted. Santana immediately pulled me to her and I involuntarily fell into her arms.

"How do you feel baby?" She mumbled. Gently, she removed my hair, which fell on my neck, to the side. Exposing the nape of my neck, Santana kissed me there, sucking and biting gently.

"I am sick. You should not be so close." I said honestly.

"Such a bad excuse. Don't avoid the question." Her lips grazed against my shoulder while her hand held my neck firmly. I exhaled a shuddering breath, leaning my head back. "How do you feel, Brittany?"

To hear her utter my name brought this pleasurable coldness to the pit of my stomach, which induced me to quiver violently again. I was breathing rapidly, my skin blazing hot. Although my skin was already burning from the fever, her merciless ministration only made it worse.

But I thirst for this feeling: the sensation of her touch caressing me so soothingly. At last, after the most agonizing days, Santana and I have encountered each other's most desperate presence.

"Answer me, Brittany." Santana demanded, her eyes finally looking into mine. Our noses touched; our lips millimeters apart. I held her wrinkled shirt in my hand, sensing her rapid heartbeats too.

"Can't you tell?" I inquired, taking her hand and placing it on my heart.

"No, tell me. I wanna hear it from you" She urged. My lips parted to confess.

However, a knock interrupted us and we fell apart quickly. My words were left unsaid. She walked over to the closed door and greeted Grandma who looked relieved to see me still conscious.

"Is she well?"

"Yes, Abuela. I am so sorry I brought you here again."

"No, no. This girl should be apologizing of all people. I told you not to go to college. I am sure you could not even concentrate on your tests." Grandma shook her head. I bit my lip, realizing I was caught. But I was more worried of my unspoken words struggling to be liberated. I needed to tell Santana my love for her. I needed her to know I wished to be with her. I could not endure any longer.

"Exams? What exams? There wasn't any–

"Grandma," I interjected Santana. "Did the doctor tell you about my reports yet?"

"No, dear. We will know soon." She said.

"The nurse was supposed to come in and do an examination."

"I will go and ask. This hospital is extremely disorganized." Grandma walked away. "I also have to sign some papers. I'll be back shortly."

Once Grandma had disappeared from my peripheral vision, I turned to Santana.

"I love you," I confessed unexpectedly, gazing towards Santana. She turned abruptly to me, perplexed by my sudden confession. She panicked as she noticed Grandma turning away from the door. She had heard me. Yet, for the strangest reason, whether or not she was astonished by my declaration could not hinder my decision of confessing. I was relieved because the words devouring my senses were finally free.

"Abuela, she is just high on medication," she feigned a hearty laugh, the loudest chuckles ever to escape from Santana Lopez. However, Grandma seemed to believed her and headed out of the room.

* * *

There were many reasons why the hospital could never be a preferable place to me. One of the greatest causes for my hatred is the irritating, exploitative, unnecessary, aggravating heart monitor. The abnormal heart beat was uncontrollable in my situation and though I can disguise it with my face, it was immensely impossible to cast away from technology. As I waited for her reply to my confession, I could only stare longingly. I possessed hope and shame simultaneously mixed in my circulating thoughts inducing me to a faint state of mind. I could hear my own dense breathing increasing its pace as if the race to gain its love would never officially found its resolution.

"San?" I called at last. Yet, the most exasperating of all circumstances was her cowardliness hindering her confrontation with me. I recall her waving Grandma goodbye after making the hasty excuse for my spontaneous confession. However, she never turned back to answer me. Her eyes were staring into vacancy; the vacancy appearing much significant than I could possibly. "Santana," I called again.

"I have to go. Abuela will come soon." She rapidly garnered her belongings and rushed away from me.

I was unable to define her feelings since Santana strategically averted her face from me. I was bereaved in a plain and colorless bed with white, droll sheets and no Santana. For the first time I wished to listen to my heart to ask for my subsequent action as I was left awestruck yet in absolute vain. The heart hid away, shameful of the morose situation.

"Jerk," I whispered before collapsing onto the bed, waiting for the doctor to notify me their diagnosis. Now, I prayed that the diagnosis was the worst of possibilities. I would rather die than face her again. The prolonged expectation of meeting her had driven me to the steepest precipice. Even in my present state, I could not identify the decency of who I once was. I was rounding the corner of emptiness wishing for one sole woman to appear with fondest intention. It was then, I could return to my identity since the thief had taken it along with her.

How could I have ever forgotten? My ideal visions can never be realized. The wrong I committed, I was to be held reprehensible. No one else. Because I had dared to hope.

When Grandma had returned, I pretended to languidly sleep as to not reveal my solemnity. Grandma had always managed read through my thickest disguise. It proved dubious for her to overlook my grave melancholy.

Soon, a week after, I was discharged. The high fever was caused by tissue destruction from the mini-surgeries they did under local anesthesia to repair the damages from my fractured bones and fatally cleaved skin. In other words, I was unfortunately healthy. I dreaded the second I stepped out of the hospital knowing I would return to a home where Santana did not reside in. I yearned to revisit to Lopez Mansion simply for the sake of seeing her. Yet, I knew all too well my visit would not be welcomed, not even by Santana.

Perhaps I was mistaken in thinking I truly did belong to her and thinking she truly did belong to me. An incessant quantity of girls stepped out of her room as she, herself, stepped out wearing only long shirts lazily wrapped around her without pants. Perhaps I was among her numerous girls seeking her attention and she seeking mine for only one tainted motive: sex.

Embracing my sullen thoughts, I headed towards home with Grandma. Paradoxically, Grandma was elated to, at last, take me home. She had addressed the fact that since I had entered her house, I have visited the hospital unremittingly. Now that she had decided to pray every night for me, God has blessed me with a healthier body.

I hope she was wrong.

I was cursed, not blessed…from the very beginning of my tragic life.

"I will see you home. Let me pick up some groceries so I can make you a delicious welcoming dinner." Grandma stated, awakening me from my daydreaming. "Oh Brittany, I am the happiest and luckiest grandmother to posses such a beautiful grandchild." She kissed my forehead before stepping out of the cab once we had impeded near the supermarkets. Guiltily, I waved to her…I should be just as joyful as my Grandma. I was finally going to a home of light. Awaiting was the radiating satisfaction of peace after many tormented years. But in the end, I could not remain grateful. My onerous sorrow had overpowered all other emotions.

* * *

Once home finally arrived, I walked in, enveloping the warmth that Grandma's house contained. The Lopez Mansion and Grandma's house were similar in its size and extravagance, but in its aura, the two could never be juxtaposed. There was a query chill emitting from the Lopez mansion, a ponderous feeling you could never blow away with your breath…it was nearly suffocating. Here, only the affable luminosity irradiated the walls to permit a congenial human being as they humbly stepped in.

It was beautiful…pulchritudinous in its utter simplicity.

I exhaled a deep breath, automatically smiling as I stepped in. Although dejection had shrouded me only seconds ago, I could not help but feel a sense of placid bliss once I smelled the serene solace.

"Grandma is right. I am truly blessed." I whispered to myself.

"Glad you finally show a figment of optimism in your dark shadows," she said. I did not move my eyes to see who it was. I was afraid of shattering my hope. "Oh, don't pretend you can't hear me? First, you treat me like a celebrity. Now I am a ghost?"

"Santana," was all I could respire as if her name was intertwined with my breath.

"Look at me Brittany," she ordered softly. And I did.

She was beautiful.

Yes, the house was too.

Yet, the house could only be labeled as an enhancing eyesore compared to her dark perfection. Our eyes meeting, a gravitational force interconnected our souls immediately. My eyes twinkled at the ravenous sight of her, my lips curving beyond my conscious will.

"Come here to me," she demanded. And I did.

…closer and closer to a dream I grew fearful to believe in.

I halted once I reached the edge of the top most stair and gazed. She obliterated the painful distance between us and held out her hand towards me. My quivering hands hesitantly held her fingers. She pulled me to her and smiled…the way she always does.

"Hi baby," she said.

"You're really here."

"Yes. I guess I am."

"Why?" My voice continued to grow meeker hearing her voice emerge into my reality.

"Well," Santana's hand encircled my waist to pull me closer. I did not resist this time. "Because I had a feeling."

"A feeling?"

"Mhm."

A lullaby she was singing to me with simply her euphonic voice. I felt her nose brush against mine, our foreheads touching by the slightest. Heavily, we breathed.

"What feeling?" I inquired.

"Can't you tell?" She mocked. My dazed eyes grew wide as my pale cheeks colored crimson. I recalled asking the same question. She was only amusing herself.

I stepped away from her, throwing away her hands from my waist. She looked at me with perplexity.

"Why are you here?" I swallowed, terrorized of her response.

"Britt britt," she cooed.

"You left me there in the hospital for one week! And you've been here all along?!" I yelled. I did not realize as tears rapidly filled my moist eyes, trickling angrily down my heated cheeks.

"I'm here now baby. Isn't that what matters?" She asked.

"I looked for an answer that night," I continued. "And you left like you could care less of what I had to say. With silence, you gave me your rejection and I laid there for one hellish week trying to comprehend your rebuff–

"Good then."

"What?"

"Good–no– great! You finally understood what hell I went through for years." Santana's lips tightened. Sternly, she folded her arms over her chest, leaning on the wall. "Don't you get it, Brittany? I wanted you to suffer."

"S-suffer?" I stuttered.

"Yes. Should I spell it out for you?"

"S-suffer," I repeated, averting my eyes from her. I turned my back to her, closing my eyes to reason. "Do you not love me?"

"No," She said.

Even though the tears escaped from my eyes, it was my heart sinking into the vast ocean, drowning into mournfulness. I could not breathe: I suffocated, clutching onto my chest as if it would somehow revive that way. I could not garner the courage to face her and interrogate her for a little longer. She was breaking my heart, tearing my soul, shattering my faith.

"The word love cannot justify what I feel for you baby. I am obsessed with you to the point that I would cut out my heart and show you the injuries you have inflicted on it."

Her words were scary beautiful: Too scary to perceive and too beautiful to hear.

Her hand wrapped around my elbow and she pulled me into her, refusing to release me.

"Then why?!" I cried, writhing against her.

"Recall what I have said to you before," she dictated.

Complying hesitantly, I closed my eyes and began to reminisce. "I can't remember."

Her fingers gently caressed my chin before lifting it up. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

"'Think of me as your enemy,'" she repeated her declaration. Her lips slowly formed into an iniquitous grin.

"You didn't mean that." I vacillated, stumbling over my words. I shook my head in disbelief.

"I mean every word I speak baby. You are a fool to not believe." Santana's index finger slowly traced my face bone structure, tracing down my neck, and brushing over my collarbone. I shivered. Her touch spread raging fire underneath my skin, burning it into my pores in the utmost sizzling yet addictive way.

Santana moved her face towards past my peripheral vision, her lips brushing against my ear.

"Haven't you heard the phrase, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?" She whispered, capturing my sensitive skin in between her teeth. I sighed feverishly. It was becoming too difficult to think.

"Yes but–

"I need you closer, Baby."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N

Hey guys..i wanna thank all the reviewers and followers. i'm glad you guys are enjoying this fic. this chapter is a little long. hope you guys like it. r&R

* * *

The blistering hell had devoured you,

With your hand intertwined with mine.

In spite of the bitter darkness we fell into;

Our resilient love is still so divine

* * *

The doors had sprung open as Grandma entered the house, the chauffeur behind her carrying several shopping bags in his hands. The chauffeur was rather exhausted from the ponderous materials he carried. However I shared no pathos towards him considering a much older lady was carrying a similar quantity of bags. Seeing that Grandma has entered, Santana and I broke apart. Noise was an intrinsic signal inducing us to disintegrate. Yet, strangely, she was still holding my hand. I pulled to release it but in vain.

Even though my eyes lingered on Grandma, my mind roamed helplessly around Santana. I was breathless from Santana's wicked ministrations which caused my unhesitating capitulation. But I was grateful: This unique sensation had faded away for the longest duration since this peculiar sensation's catalyst was Santana herself. Once the catalyst disappeared so did the feelings revolving around it.

"Grandma," I called startling Santana. She freed my hand. At once, I stepped away from her. She attempted to capture me again, but I hastily descended the stairs to elude. I greeted Grandma.

"You said you went grocery shopping. But what is all this?

She laughed at me embracing me in her arms. She kissed my forehead before leading me to the living room. Grandma told me to sit down. I complied.

"Brittany, dear," she called. Her fingers affectionately ran through my hair. I saw the tears twinkling in her innocent eyes, trickling down the wrinkled corners. Surprised, I wiped away her tears to impede her weeping.

"Don't cry, Grandma." I told her.

"I am most relieved now that you are finally well. You have suffered the greatest ordeals in your life. I feel such somber pain to see my granddaughter this way. And look at me; it seems that I am shedding the tears you should be."

"I want you to be happy. And who says I was discontent. Look at what treasures I possess. If it wasn't for you, my rancor towards life, family, and love would only grow more unpleasant." I took her hands in mine. I smiled acknowledging her hands were warm like Santana's. "So, please, just be happy for me."

"Of course dear," she squeezed my hand for assurance. "Actually, I was so happy today that I absolutely could not stop myself."

"Stop what?"

"Buying clothes!" Her hands were thrown up into the air in pure bliss. She gestured me towards the approximately twenty shopping bags piled on the tea table. I groaned in frustration.

"You are one crazy old lady." Santana had somehow stealthily managed to climb down the staircase and stand hidden behind the sofa. Grandma and I jumped at her voice rupturing behind us. Seeing we flinched, she chuckled softly. I swallowed as I became cognizant of my irritating heart fluttering at her harmonious laughter. Santana appeared to notice my skittish nature as she grinned cheekily.

"You have come already?" Grandma smiled kissing her on the cheek when she bent towards her. She clearly knew of her potential arrival…how could she not notify me?

"Mami left early so I left early too," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Wait, you didn't tell Mami you are coming here?"

She shrugged again, whistling apathetically. I pursued my lips in annoyance. It was her mother of all people. How could she feel no sense of obligation towards her? She must be immensely worried!

"I will let her know the next morning. She will be remaining with us for the spring vacation."

"She's s-staying with us? You mean here…in this house? With us?" I gulped down my fear hearing this news. God could only know the pernicious turmoil I would be struggling with for an entire excruciating month. It was one thing to long for her but it was one thing to actually find her so close to me. Now that my clandestine truth was revealed, she would not spare me her wrath. I could hardly anticipate her subsequent measures after what had occurred. I felt extremely gauche to even imagine what would become the consequences of my revelation. Had I endured a little longer, I would not be repenting upon my regrets. This month would be painful in the utmost agonizing means. I was dreading this moment.

"Yes, dear. Now, come on, leave these insignificant matters aside. Take a look at the clothing I brought you. See if it is your preference. If not, we can go shopping again."

"Oh god, don't tell me you bought all of these just for me," I shook my head in disbelief picking up a GUCCI bag and staring at it, awestruck. She nodded eagerly, snatching the bag from my hand. Jovially smiling, she opened the bag to reveal a crimson, silky, elegant…expensive dress.

"Abuela, she will never wear this. She has no fashionable sense. Look at the skirt she is wearing." Santana muttered.

"Of course, I will," I retorted back in order to contradict her cynicism. Cordially, I enveloped Grandma in my arms, pecking her on the cheek. "If Grandma bought this for me, it must possess a thousand blessings. I must wear this at once."

"Go quickly and get ready. I will go and cook a delicious dinner for you. It's almost 9 already. It's getting late. What would you like for your first dinner in my house?"

"Anything as long as you make it," I told her. She ordered the chauffer to bring the clothes to my room. I took the stairs to an empty room to change. It was a dark room, my breath echoing across the walls. I closed the door behind me and undressed my upper body. The chills ran down my spine as I experienced the wind blowing from the window. It was open. I sighed, taking the dress and unzipping the back.

"Brittany, I need to speak to you."

When she entered so unexpectedly and so impertinently, I had no choice but remain still in a statuesque position. The chilly breeze iniquitously clinched around my skin preparing me to face the utmost horrific moment of my life.

"Santana…Get. OUT." My voice was restrained and I turned away from her, covering my exposed upper body. My breath was caught in my throat as the lump dilated to cause the tears in my eyes. I bit my bottom lip and whimpered from icy terror solidifying my spine.

"You are giving orders to Santana Lopez?" she asked rhetorically.

"I am changing, Santana! Out!" I yelled, praying that Grandma could not hear me from downstairs.

Silence evoked the warmth in my feet, injecting solid ice into the pores of my skin. I swallowed wishing she would leave. Instead once the long silence passed away, it was her laughter I heard.

"You seem awfully modest for a girl who readily exposed herself to me only days ago."

"It was more than a month ago and I wasn't thinking," I bit my lip hoping to mend my vacillation. I heard her footsteps reverberating closer to me. I exhaled a frustrated moan, inching closer to the windows.

"Please San. I can't lose control here."

"Britt, I will never listen to your orders."

"Have I not confessed? Have we not agreed on being together? Why are you still behaving this way?"

"In what instance had such words been discussed?" She laughed again as if finding this entire situation entertaining.

"Then…what were you doing before?" I inquired, tightening my arms around me. I felt her warm body touch my bare back. We were breathing in unison.

"Aw Baby," She cooed, pushing away my hair to expose my slender neck. I closed my eyes. "You are truly lost in the deepest gradation of naivety."

Her fingers slid down my shoulder, descending down my arm. Her other hand wrapped around my waist to pull me closer. Tenderly, Santana place her lips on my shoulder. I leaned back instantly in the pleasure of this explicit sensation. She made me crave her so urgently that it was beyond my self-control to persevere. Santana removed her hand from my waist to place it against my uncovered back. I shivered as she slid her fingers down my back only to return to my waist and play with the edge of my skirt.

"I was never your prince charming or your angelic savior. It would truly be pitiful if you imagined me that way," her voice turned into merely a whisper as she too grew breathless at the coalesced feeling running through our veins. Her fingers intertwined with mine, dangerously brushing against my upper chest. She caressed my waist, moving steadily to my belly.

Torturously, Santana traced strange shapes on my belly and I began to recognize that it was my name she was spelling out. "For all the pain you caused me, I will make you suffer because that is who Santana Lopez is."

"Leave me then. Leave me if you wish me ill." I pushed against her unwillingly. She gripped onto my belly, pulling me into her. I squirmed violently but she did not comply with my wishes. She never did.

"Silly Brittany, this is only part of your suffering." She squeezed my bare waist. Santana brushed her hand against my unconcealed mounds and I gasped, realizing I had unconsciously removed my hand from my torso.

"You have helped me so many–

"It's a pity you never let me explain my reasons."

"What is your reason, then?"

"My selfish purposes cannot be of much interest if it is exposed so easily, now can it?"

I pushed away from her, creating distance as she diminished it. My back to the wall, I followed her twinkling eyes as it tracked me.

"You are sick person!" I accused. She only laughed at my declaration. I sprinted for the door but she had somehow pushed me against the wall, trapping me in. She grasped my chin with her fingers, pulling my face towards her.

"Why are you doing this to me San? If you don't feel the same way then please leave me" I cried.

"But baby I do love you."

I loked into her eyes and pulled her closer towards me. Forcefully, she pressed her lips against me, kissing me fiercely. I felt the beat of my heart increase rapidly and i pulled her even closer and her response was kissing me deeper. I acquiesced to her as I moved my lips in sync with hers. Like always, I submitted to the pleasure she gave me.

Santana had become the burning hell that had once consumed her. She was blazing in the fire she could never escape from. In hopelessness, she took me along with her. I was now consumed. I was now hers forever.

And even though I desired to find revival of my catastrophic life…

even though I desired to alleviate the degree of the flame…

even though I desired to escape from misery…

even though I desired to aid her in evasion…

"no mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed"…

She was consumed. And so was I.

Except, though we were scorching in the same blaze, I still could not comprehend her underlying means.

"Destroy me if you will for whatever your reason may be," I told her in between kisses. She stopped to listen. "But this love that i have for you will never waver."

"That should not be your response Brittany, dammit! This shouldn't be you response!"

One second we were kissing and the next second we were apart. In both moments, I could not find the legitimate cognition for her haphazard actions. I wondered if it was I constituting the dilemma driving her to such level of mentality. What mistake had I committed? I confessed my love for her. The concealed confession she yearned for had finally been exposed yet her actions…her actions were unfathomable. She tortured me as if my confession was not her ultimate desire, my pain was. Even as I attempted to distance myself, she call me to her, hardly realizing how ambivalent she was becoming. I was discombobulated. I wanted her so desperately yet she…who was she…who was Santana Lopez?

"Tell me the truth!" She screamed.

"Santana, Grandma is downstairs." I gritted my teeth, speaking in a curt and low tone. My eyes followed her frantic hands, first at my waist, then on my elbows, and now on my shoulders. I blinked, able to take a cursory glance at her eyes, which as I feared, revealed no rational emotion. At this point, she was driving me to the brink of insanity.

"If I cared, I wouldn't be screaming in the first place. Now tell me, Brittany, why do you lie to me?"

"Lie?" I laughed in the ridicule of the situation. "First, you tell me you love me. Then, you tell me you want torture me. Now, you tell me I am lying to you?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." She was vacillating now, her grip loosening. I hastily slipped out, taking a large step backward.

"Don't. Come. Near me." I ordered.

"Brittany." When it was she that exacerbated the situation, turned a confession into a nightmare, how dare she call my name in such an endearing way? What right did my heart give her that my heart refused to break away from resilience towards the darkest love ever to be encountered? At that moment, more than her, I wanted to abscond from my anemic heart.

"I do not understand you, Santana. You have pestered me for so long to reveal my feelings and now that I have, you cannot accept me. You want me in chains begging for clemency? Is that it?"

"No, Britt." Her eyes changed, altered into the sincerest expression ever to have been behold. My heart missed a beat and I stopped in my tracks letting her come to me, embrace me, hold me, kiss me.

"Haven't you tortured me enough, San?" My voice broke and I heard its hoarseness emitting like cacophony. Her fingers soothingly ran through my hair. "It hurts. It hurts, Baby."

I was crying miserably in her arms, forgetting my bareness as I felt the warmth of her embrace. I was in the gravest hole dug into the core of the Earth and now…I could not ascend towards luminosity. Yet, tragically, I did not even wish to ascend as long as Santana fell with me. The murkiness hindered our eyes to perceive but our hearts, radiating with lucidity, conceived for us. However now, our hearts, so caliginous, drowned into blindness. Even in the obscurity, I could care less because she was still with me.

"Baby," she cajoled again, but she was not answering my questions.

"Fine, then. Torture me. Hurt me. Kill me. If it shall prove my love for you, I will cope with all the needles you impale me with."

"That is not my intention."

"No?" I looked up at her, flabbergasted at her paradoxical emotions. "Only a second ago you told me you wish me tortured."

"Not like that."

"Then, like what? I guess ropes and needles are not enough for you. What else?" I pushed her away again. "What is it that you want?"

Silence overshadowed everything else. She did not reply to my inquiries. Instead, her hands slipped out of her jacket. I watched as she began to take her jacket off; it struck me…I was still exposed. I covered myself, relieved that the darkness did not allow her to see me. Once Santana slipped out of her jacket, she put it over me, forcing my hands to slip into the sleeves.

"I want answers of my own first," was her response. I did not protest. I waited for her questions.

"What's your motive?" She asked.

"My motive? To be with you."

"After pleading for months , hoping you would finally tell me you feel the same way, you continued to rebuff me." She ignored my answers, sheltered by her own insecurities. Santana's hands hovered over the jacket she slowly put on me. I watched her hands' silhouette moving down to my waist to hook the zipper. In one stride, she zipped up her jacket. "But now, suddenly, you've decided to confess. What is your motive?"

"I–

"You are forcing yourself to submit to me. Are you fearing the consequences? Is that your motive?"

"Santana, wh–

"I can't believe you. I could not believe you in the hospital nor can I believe you now." Her back was turned to me and she was looking out to the window, lifting the shades so the moonlight was illuminating her face. To see her left me utterly ineffable. She was a beautiful and ravenous beast…with a rueful, lamenting heart. "You cannot possibly be telling me truth. I don't trust you."

"Then, don't say you love me." I told her, my hands clasping into small fists. The nails dug into my skin as I gazed at her face.

Her suspicions disgusted me. I has become so desperate to see her after a torturous month. And at last, when we finally met, this was her tacky response. Santana antagonized me for the sake of attaining my love through fear. Yet, she did not comprehend that love can never be accompanied with fear. Love is an unique creature, capable of obliterating only harm. If two lovers clash in the midst of fear, the love will gradually disappear.

Her pain could not be so excruciating that she provoked love…her pain could not be so agonizing that she lost trust in the person she loves…could it?

In an instant, her face turned towards me and once again, she was charging at me, painfully gripping onto my bruised shoulders. I winced but did not writhe.

"You are doubting my love for you? How dare you?"

"If you can distrust me, so can I." I challenged.

"No, you cannot! What haven't I done for you?!" She was searching my eyes. "There is no question of dubiety!"

"Being my sole enemy cannot make you my lover. It makes you my enemy. Nothing else."

"You will leave me otherwise. How could I be stupid enough to believe that you will remain forever."

"Because I'm not your mother. and I'm not your father. I am Brittany."

"My sister," she completed in a low whisper, her eyes casting downwards. I never saw her so vulnerable. Even her violence could not disguise her decrepitude. I began to recognize that her pain was too grave to be mended. However, if I triumphed in cleansing the wounds, the pain would gradually alleviate. I exhaled a deep breath before stalwartly responding to her hopelessness:

"No, I'm your love. Your faith. Your Brittany. Yours forever. Only Yours"

I could not rely on my own heart at this point because the words, I spoke, stupefied me. The confidence was too surreal. So, as Santana also looked towards me, shocked at my valiance, I simply curved my lips to evince a genuine smile. This confidence may be surreal but I would embrace this revere as long as it became Santana's and my salvation.

"But what if–

"Santana, you gave me the courage to stand against society, against destiny. We are siblings, but I bravely pursued you regardless, believing that in harm's way, you would shield me. I decided to confess, not because of fear but because of trust and love which you bestowed me with." I told her. I removed her hands from my shoulder before laying my head onto her chest. I felt her rapid heartbeat exposing her fear that she held me reprehensible for. "I believe in you, Santana."

She did not speak to me but rested her hand on my head, caressing me.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. I smiled, realizing how vulnerable she truly was.

"Santana Lopez never says sorry," I chuckled, holding her tighter.

"Unless its to you baby," she told me, before Grandma had abruptly made her entrance and demanded to know what catastrophe had struck, making us both holler so violently. We both gulped, sorting through appropriate answers in our head.

"What is going on here?!" Grandma inquired. Her eyes were wide with shock. She looked from me to Santana hoping to find an adequate answer. "Why are you wearing her jacket? Why is your top on the ground? What were you doing in here?"

I realized, then, that she was not searching my eyes for the answer. She was searching us for hints of the true answer: Grandma was dubious of our potential replies.

"Answer me, Brittany. You were changing, am I right?"

"Yes." I answered tersely.

"Then, what was going on here?!" She shouted.

Her wrath, when exposed, would surprise the serene humanity if one existed. Her rage was only revealed when attempting to converse with Mama…but this was the first time, I confronted her ire. Even though I had garnered several replies in my head, they quickly disappeared in fear. The Grandma I knew had consistently remained tranquil whether it is her voice or her posture. She always radiated with composure and effervescence.

"I have been noticing something odd in the way you guys behave. Your quarrels, your concerns, your affection…it's not…it's not…"

She choked on her words as if unable to speak her true feelings. A long silence followed her deficient words. I anticipated her sentence completion wondering what exactly she thought.

"It's not sibling affection." Santana easily finished for her. Stupefied, I glared at Santana who held Grandma's eyes with apathy.

"Santana!" I scolded. She did not turn to justify her revelation. How could she aid Grandma in exposing us? Did she not fear her response? I kept my eyes on Santana, frightened by Grandma's expression. I clutched onto the sides of the jacket, fidgeting as I nervously played with it. Even though I yearned for Grandma's acceptance, the possibility extended to imagination, no further.

"Are you guys together?" She asked. I closed my eyes, wishing to somehow rid the situation through darkness but as she inquired once again, I accepted that I could not disregard her voice.

"Yes. Yes we are." Santana responded. This time I did not scold her because even if we covered her words with a lie, she would not believe us. It was too late: too late for Santana and I.

"You are sisters for heaven's sake! How could you have ever found this situation appropriate?" Grandma turned around, ashamed to face us. She was in tears, flabbergasted over what she was forced to acknowledge.

"We are in love," Santana confessed, glancing towards me. I melted into her loving gaze, accepting her hand as she extended her own. My heart's rapid palpitation came to a steady pace, once cognizant of Santana's support.

"I cannot approve this. I absolutely cannot! You are siblings!" She threw her hands in the air to emphasize. I walked over to her, gaining the confidence that Santana granted me.

"Grandma," I cajoled, taking her hand. Reluctantly, she looked at me fighting her tears. "We never asked you to approve of us. We are fine as long as you tolerate us. Please?"

Patiently, I waited for her acceptance. I held her hand tighter in between mine, hoping to alleviate her doubts. Our eyes held each other as I persisted for her acceptance. Yet, in vain, she pulled her hand away and walked towards the door leading to lucidity.

"I can never tolerate this…this mistaken infatuation." Her eyes pierced into mine. "Santana, if this was your intention in visiting so early, I am kindly asking you, as my grandchild, to leave immediately. If you do not comply, I will ask the guards to take action. Pack your bags and get out!"

She shut the door, shrouding us in the darkness. I bit my lip to suppress my tears. Now that I have, at last, stepped into Santana and my affinity, I also accepted the shelter of shadows. Since this love could never be deemed right in society, we were outcasts forever.

And that was our sacrifice.

However, besides being outcasts, we were also neglected by our only kin, Grandma. She would never accept us, let alone approve of our love. When Santana and I were together, we segregated form the rest of the world, yet most of all, Grandma.

And that was our biggest sacrifice.

"Wait!" Santana suddenly called. In an instance, she opened the door and disappeared. I stood motionless, listening to my own ragged breath and whimpering cries. Had she left me too? No, she wouldn't. She loved me as I did. She wouldn't.

Vulnerable in the circumstance, I followed her out the door, running where she ran.

We ended up standing in the living room, hovering over a morose Grandma. Her fingers were pressing onto her temple, massaging as if she had a headache. I attempted to reach to mend her pain, to offer her medicine, but restrained; she would not request my aid anymore. I was an ode to her.

"You are right," Santana began. Abruptly, my head turned to her as I feared her subsequent words. "This was merely an infatuation. We were most truly mistaken in love. I promise that I will break our indecent ties starting right now."

"Santana," I cried, reaching to hold her hands. My fingers brushed against hers before her fingers began to painfully slip away. She was walking away, taking my stolen heart with her and deserting my dejected soul. "Santana!"

I felt my own virtuous conscience reproach me for believing in lies. How idiotic I became to believe that a fairytale could ever emerge in reality? So easily, she left me as if she possessed no faith in me or our love.

"No," I wept. My legs quivered under me, surrendering to the floor. "You can't leave me."

"Dear," Grandma rested her firm hand on my shoulder. "It will be okay. I promise you."

"How can I ever make you understand, Grandma? I love her!" I told her, turning around to embrace her leg. "Bring her back. Please bring her back."

"It will be okay," she repeated as if unaffected by my words but how could I ever make her realize that this love was not infatuation or lust. I was prepared to shred every ounce of dignity for her sake. I can be claimed blind for giving her myself, but I could care less as long as she was by my side.

I possessed no cognizance as she picked me up and set me on the sofa, attempting to feed me since I had not touched food after my arrival from the hospital. My lips remained a thin, flat line refusing to speak or consume. To such a high gradation, she had captured my heart and trapped my soul that I could only think of her. Rebuffed, now more than ever, it was she I wished to discard since Santana had clearly made it visible that she held me of no sentimental value. I was merely her puppet, controlled by her whenever she pleased. Once the amusement turned towards a hint of severity, she sprinted towards evasion, for she only learned to play with fire not to consume it.

"Let me go upstairs," I told her in my shattered voice. "I am tired."

"Eat something before you go," she pleaded.

"I am not hungry," I responded as I headed towards the staircase.

"Brittany," she called affectionately. "You will forget her. I promise you."

"No, I won't." I assured her. "You can only overlook those that you are infatuated with. Santana…I am in love with her. Even if I desperately desire it, I can never diminish her from my conscience–

"Yes, you can. I will help you."

–because a desolated soul can never live exclusive of a heart and Santana..she captured the very heart I so securely protected. I am empty without her."

Grandma was immobile, left speechless with the animosity emitting from me. She let me go, fearing to call out to me. It would be doomed to failure nevertheless.

Once I reached the comfort of my room, I shut the door close. Although my intention was to cry in my bed, I could not reach it in time. I was weeping against the door, dragging myself down to the carpeted floor.

"Santana," I called her name. "San."

I could not impede my whimpering nor could I impede the emptiness I felt. Hoping to find solace, I clutched onto my chest. Repeatedly, I called her name as if expecting a reply but in vain.

"San," I cried ignoring the strange sounds deriving from my window.

"I'm here baby. I'm right here." Before I could look up, I felt the familiar arms enveloping me, shielding me from harm's way. Silence lingered in the somber atmosphere but soon cleared as I realized who dhe was. Content, I exhaled a deep breath while I refused to lift my head to interrogate her.

"San," I said again.

"Hmmmm?" Her chest vibrated from the low rumble of her voice. Placid in her embrace, I smiled.

"Santana, is that really you?" Uncertain, I spread my hand onto her chest.

"I'm right beside you baby, holding you, loving you. I will never leave you Britt." She ran her fingers through my hair. "I will always be with you."

"You promise?"

"I promise baby." She assured.

"Then, why did you leave me?" I began to cry again, soaking her shirt.

"She wouldn't believe me otherwise, Britt." She lifted my face from her chest, moving my hair strands aside.

"But I thought you really left me," I sniffed, my lips quivering from potential tears. She held my face in her hands and forced me to look at her.

"I will never leave you baby." She assertively declared. Gently, she held me and kissed my crimson nose. "How can i leave you baby? I am the luckiest person alive to be blessed with such love as yours. I am yours, as you are mine."

I giggled, knowing only a few hours ago, she would never have said those words to me. She hid in her own false valiance refusing to let anyone find vulnerability…but not anymore.

"Hey don't laugh." She warned. I persistently laughed. "Don't laugh, Britt. I am warning you."

"And if I don't listen?" I challenged.

"I will–"

"Do what?" I questioned. "You can't do–

I was interrupted by my own hiccup. Surprised, I covered my mouth though the hiccups continued to emerge.

"See, karma." She chuckled, poking my nose. I frowned at her. She kissed me again and i was once again lost in everything that was Santana Lopez.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N

Ok so this came out a bit different then i planned but i hope you guys like it. i wanna thank Sunshine for all the support and inspiration..you make me happy and this chapter is for you baby girl.. hope it'll make you smile.. ok guys i hope you'll enjoy. leave me a review and let me know what you think..

* * *

Kissing Santana was the best feeling I ever had. Our kisses were getting heated by the second and I could feel the need to completely be with her rise within me. Unintentionally, I unbuttoned her shirt and when I felt her skin against me I pulled away in a state of shock at what I had done. To my greatest disappointment, she impeded her euphoric laughter. She was now staring at me as if suddenly enchanted. I lowered my gaze, observing her open shirt while she observed me. Believe me, I had no intention of surveying her beauty even though it did send shivers through my skin. I silently hoped she did not notice my humiliating reactions toward her being almost topless. I was in love with her and this was easier to accept than admitting how unbelievably irresistible she truly was. Santana Lopez was the epitome of egomaniacs. She would find the whole circumstance quite entertaining…entertaining enough to tease me for a lifetime.

"Good night San," I spoke rather hoarsely as if a masochist enjoying the thrill of being strangled.

"What?'

"Good night. It is past midnight. It is time for you to leave." I stood up from my position and headed towards my bed. Pretending to sleep, I lied down on the soft, velvety bed.

"You must be quite satisfied with your new room," she told me, completely ignoring my preceding statement. She observed the room as if it was her first time seeing a beautiful structure and labyrinth designs. My eyes moved where she moved. Gently, she touched the table's edges and traced the picture's border while she stealthily moved towards me.

"I don't know," I responded to distract the situation. "I kind of miss my cosy room. I liked the warmth emitting from the walls. It gave me a secure feeling. I miss it."

I pulled the covers over my body, secretly eying Santana who skipped past my bed to the other side of the room. Perhaps, she was genuinely interested in my room.

"Britt," she called. There was something in the way she uttered my name that left me speechless and vulnerable in the most alluring way possible. "I am sure you miss something more than just the room," she responded. Perplexed, I waited for her explanation. She ceased her inspection of my supposedly interesting room before sharply turning towards me. Startled, I gasped and yanked the covers closer to my body. She did not seem affected by my sudden recoil. Instead, Santana was advancing towards me, halting her gait near my bedside. I gulped, conscience of the girl I love so close to me…in my room…near my bed. In retrospect to her previous entrance into my old room, this would not end so…innocently.

"What would I miss?" I cleared my throat, hoping my discomfort would bring her to her senses.

"Memories. The memories I left in your room." As if she knew exactly how to seduce me, her voice turned raspier than usual. Her voice became almost a dead whisper: an endearing voice in the most indecent way possible. Careless of the situation, Santana sat down beside me. I tried to breathe steadily but in vain. She was driving me to the verge of insanity. "Do you remember that baby?"

I recalled the night I cried in my room seeing her 'friend' in her lap. Disgusted, I shivered.

Then, I reminisced upon her incognizant entrance into my room. In frustration, I bit my lip unable to retract as to how I ended up against the wall, senselessly kissing the irresistible woman. Had she seduced me that day too?

"What are you thinking about, Britt?" It took me a few moments to realize that she was caressing my hand which lazily clutched onto the covers. I flinched from her touch, hiding my hand in the covers.

"I'd rather not speak of it." I snapped. I sensed the blood rushing to my cheeks. Her hands swept under the covers and grasped my hand. I twisted but she was too stubborn to release me. Flustered over my helplessness, I cursed at myself.

"Let me guess, the night you were in a towel–

"Stop it, San. Please."

I felt her eyes hovering over mine, watching my every reaction. Self-conscious, my heart began to unexpectedly race; I slowly respired hoping to gain composure. Yet, breathing became impossibly difficult as her fingers grazed against the tip of my sensitive fingers. I pulled away but such movement induced her to hold it tighter. She was thwarting my respiration, making me ache for air.

I looked up towards her to see her iniquitous smirk increasing its diameter. She was the human paradigm for mischief. Unable to keep posture, I averted my eyes from hers. With her smooth fingers, she lifted my chin. Even though her touch was gentle, it possessed a tinge of selfishness, voraciousness that made it impossible to deny her wishes.

"I was holding you against the wall…you were kissing–

"Please San," I begged. My eyes were pleading for clemency too, but she remained merciless. At this point, my dignity was at issue.

"Please what, baby?"

"Stop San please. Don't make me lose control," I completed, trying to find my normal voice but it proved impossible.

"There was another instance. Do you remember?" She lifted the covers and glided in. Stupefied, I crawled backwards but she pulled me in. Yes, there was another instance. I was fleeing from her mother, hiding in her room only to end up in her bed, kissing her in my sleep. I realized that she was about repeat our complete bed history.

Santana was above me, pinning me down with strength of her body. I writhed against her, refusing to meet her gaze. She held my face in her hand and forced me to look at her. Once our eyes found each other, I could see no hatred, no lust, only pure love and adoration.

"I love you B. not just for your body but for everything that you are. And if you really want me to leave, just say the word and I will be gone. I won't make you do anything till you're ready baby."

Her words made my heart explode with pure love and as if her eyes had claimed me, I dove into the passionate gaze she lured me through. I leaned forward to peck her lips, but missed. She lifted herself up a fraction to keep the distance between our lips. I pouted and lifted myself up again and again I missed. She chuckled, her breath tickling me. Annoyed over her constant mocking, I attempted to reach again but this time, Santana dodged.

"Saan. You're the one who wanted this. Why are you resisting?"

"Because B, a minute ago you were acting like you don't want this. And I know you are not ready still. I was just teasing you baby. I know you don't want this to happen like this."

"You're right. I don't either." I hesitated. Silence followed us as we remained still in our intimate position.

"I know baby. And I respect that and when you are ready I'll be here and I know it'll be worth it." She spoke in low whispers as she bent down and peppered my face with small butterfly kisses. Then she looked into my eyes as she gave a small firm kiss on my lips. I leaned in but she created enough distance for my inability to reach.

"I'll behave myself as much as I can baby. Although it's not that easy'"

As her eyes cast down to my chest I pulled her down onto me. Santana's lips hovered over my chest as it moved up to torturously graze against my collarbone. I moaned in pleasure, clutching onto her shirt for assistance.

"I don't want you to behave always. I am yours."

Her leg entangled with mine; her hand wrapped around my body. Her tongue dragged over my neck, as her fingers caressed my waist. My back arched from the exotic sensation that clamped onto my body. I struggled to find support as my hands tangled onto her silky hair and pulled hard forcing her down closer to me. She groaned in pain but I paid no heed.

"Oh god San," I moaned, gasping for air. She found my lips again, requesting entry past my lips. I granted. Our tongues swirled and she dominated like she always did. Her hands stopped moving on my waist. Our lips separated. Santana looked at me, her eyes smiling with mischief. I blinked, wishing she had not stopped, wondering why she had stopped.

"Baby I love you and I need you so bad," she repeated. She puckered her lips, brushing her lips against mine. "And I know that you're mine. But we need to stop before I lose all control"

"No-

"I don't want you to regret this Britt." She explained. Her hand grazed my hip as it moved agonizingly past my belly and rested at my heart. "You're special to me and this should be special."

I begged to differ but she stifled my words, her fingers rubbing against my lips. My lips parted and she traced it as if my every movement compelled her too. "You deserve that."

"I will wait for as long as it takes." She whispered softly.

I admitted, "The more you admit you love me, the more helpless I become to all the pleasure you give me."

She grinned. "You make it hard for me to behave as well baby, but I will. I promise."

I shook her hand that still detained my wrist and trailed the structures of her cheekbones. She observed me silently as I pushed away the strands of hair falling on the side of her face.

"Does every girl make you feel that way?"

"There were a few that did." She replied with a smirk.

I pouted at her, removing my hand from her face. Even though I pushed her away, she trapped me once again in her grasp. My limbs pushed to be released, but she tangled them tighter so I was completely wrapped around her.

"I'm sorry baby, I was kidding" she called. I impeded my writhing to listen. "You are the only one who can make me feel this way britt britt."

The sincerity in her voice and the love in her eyes made me smile at her.

"But then, how come'" I stopped mid-sentence, too embarrassed to continue my words. She anticipated but I held the words back.

"Go on baby," she encouraged.

"How come you don't react the way I do?" I questioned, unconsciously unbuttoning her shirt. I cursed myself…this wasn't the first time I did this. She stopped my hand from going further. I winced from her tight grasp; Santana was squeezing my hand too tightly. "I do baby" Santana said. I stared at her utterly confused. "Don't you feel it?"

She held my hand across her chest signalling me to feel the rapid palpitation of her unsteady heart.

"I love you so much baby," she assured me. "But unfortunately, you are ridiculous at times."

"That's not very nice," I pouted. She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Can we just get back to kissing?"

"You are so shameless!"

"I love you, you love me and you're mine, just like I'm yours. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Besides you're hot when you get jealous" She smirked. Noticing she was less resistant, I managed to push her off of me so we were both sitting again.

"Good night Santana and this time do not ignore my words," I threatened. "Good. Night."

I gestured towards the window.

"I was actually planning to use the door B." She was scratching her head, looking at the uncomfortable window.

"Absolutely not. Get Out. Now"

"Are you ordering Santana-

"Yes, I am. So get out, or else you won't be touching me again. Ever" I vowed confidently. I was fearful of her subsequent actions but I dared her anyways. To my surprise, she did not retaliate. Instead after looking at me once, she hopped onto the window sill.

Santana hanged onto the pipe, slipping down to the ground. Then, she waved me good night.

"Don't challenge me B." She warned teasingly, walking away. "I have every right to touch you because you are mine."

* * *

"Brittany, are you up?" Grandma knocked. I yawned, rising from the bed. She entered with a breakfast tray.

"Grandma, you didn't have to."

"Yes, I did, dear. I have hurt you so greatly." She set down the tray and smiled at me.

"I am fine. You do not need to worry." I assured her.

"You cannot fool your grandmother." Grandma said. Hoping to clear the air, I chortled.

"I actually have some good news."

"You do?" My hopes amplified as I wished for her acceptance. She was smiling radiantly as if that was exactly what she would say.

"For the remainder of the vacation," she began. My eyes twinkled from expectation. At last, she would grant my wish. "I have invited Artie to stay with us."

"Artie?" My eyes followed the blank ceiling, searching for the simplest answer. I was growing dubious of Grandma's actions. She may appear as a teddy bear but she was cleverer than a stuffed toy. Grandma was obstinate and she would not surrender to Santana and me so easily. However, she would try her best to gain any means of triumphing the battle between love and society.

"Why not Quinn?" I suspected.

"I can call her too. I will call you anyone you want as long as you are happy." She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the breakfast tray. I watched her suspiciously as she twirled the spoon around the hot coffee. Silence embraced the room and we both stole doubtful glances at each other but no one spoke.

I loved my Grandma most truly but her intentions I could not approve this time. For the sake of love, I released the one heart I held closest, Grandma. If she was Mama, I would feel less remorseful since Mama would never accept me and have never accepted me. Yet, this was Grandma, my mother and my guardian. And now, I could speak to her genuinely because I hid from her my true motives.

"Fine," I said at last. Whatever she conjured, I released her to her own mind. Grandma could kill me if she wished, I would not hesitate for her actions to become real. I was satisfied with a secret affair. Knowing that Santana could have desolated me, I could not be more grateful. What if she never comforted me last night? What if it all was my surreal dream? I shivered: Our love may be sequestered behind a veil but at least it was not shattered.

"I am going to go do some decoration shopping for your room and Artie's! Okay? Call me if you need me."

Even though the gift was for me to celebrate, Grandma was the one jumping off the bed and clapping as if she was my age. She kissed my cheek before running towards the door. Perplexed at her new attitude, I stared as she left while tripping on the cable wire. "Careful, Grandma!"

"Be happy, Brittany darling!" She shouted back. With that strange statement, she disappeared from the hallway, her heavy steps heard from a distance. I shook my head unable to comprehend her logic. Perhaps, she simply wished for my happiness. Truthfully, I may not have gained her acceptance but I gained two bonuses: a clandestine love and a friendly support.

"She is behaving weird." Santana stepped into my room, closing the door behind her. Her first expression was ostentatious smirk altering slowly into a sincere smile. I suppressed my urge to run into her arms. Santana had already showed her loyalty towards but if she discovered my obsession of her, Santana would only grow more arrogant. Through subtle method, she needed to be tamed.

"I cannot say I blame her. We gave her such a fright last night." I muttered, taking a sip of my tea. She leaned against the door and glanced towards me.

"We are going to have a new guest, San."

It was then I realized what Grandma's intentions were: she wished for me to diminish Santana's existence from my thoughts and find love in my best friend, Artie. I gulped, keeping my gaze steady. An unaware Santana was still smiling blissfully. For a second, I was motionless simply staring at her raw beauty. She was utterly gorgeous, like an innate model.

"Baby, are you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna finish your sentence?" Her cheekiness was absolutely irritating. I blinked several times, attempting to regain composure. There was no point in denying her charge because Santana would never believe.

"Do you remember Artie?"

An absence of noise and motion shadowed the joy of our unison. With a hushed tone, we both breathed in sync. I waited for her reply but her lips were still as her entire body. At last, I noticed the change in her expression: her eyes narrowed, her lips formed a thin line, and her body stood in a pompous position. Internally, I was weeping dramatically for the sake of my beloved Artie. He had done no harm to me or Santana, yet Santana already possessed immense rancour for him. Although I attempted to explain in several circumstances about the friendship between Artie and me, Santana remained ignorant as if she stubbornly did not wish to listen.

Santana took a sharp turn towards the door and left with a thud. I formed her name with my lips, calling her silently. It seemed that even my voice knew best to release her to her ire. I would only explain in vain.

"Abuela!" I heard her voice ricocheting off the vacant walls. I closed my eyes and pretended her voice was an illusion.

"Abuela!" Unfortunately, it was not an illusion.

I pushed the tray aside and picked up the phone. If I could reach Artie in time, Artie could hopefully escape Santana's wrath. I dialled his number and waited for him to pick up the phone.

"Artie!"

"Hey, sweetheart."

I heard the booming of music in the distance and several girls squealing erratically. Artie frivolously laughed into the phone as he told the girls to wait… Typical.

"Oh, thank god." I sighed in relief. "Is it true? Are you coming here?"

"Yes." He spoke happily.

"Artie, listen to me. You–

"Why the hell do you want to live with a girl?" Santana interjected. "Are you hitting on Brittany?"

My breath caught in my throat, I heard my heart skipping several beats. Faintly, I listen to Santana's voice amplifying to yell at poor Artie who was flabbergasted at the situation. Of course, Santana knew I would head for the phone. She was Santana Lopez…she knew everything. Reluctantly, I held the phone to my ear only to hear the two irrationally arguing. I pushed the END button and shut my eyes to wash away the bitter circumstance happening.

I sprinted for the door, locking it. She could not enter without breaking the door down which she would cleverly avoid. After all, Grandma would not prefer a broken door. I cursed at myself, acknowledging that Santana and I were alone without Grandma to save me. I should have waited for her return before revealing to Santana the unprecedented news.

Once the door was closed, I sat on my bed and began to finish the delightful breakfast. Grandma's cook always tasted scrumptious. After I was done eating, I pushed the tray to the floor and made my bed as slowly as I could. I would not be leaving my room very soon considering Grandma would not be return so quickly. At this point, Santana spelled danger and danger was lurking in the hallway.

"You did this!"

I jumped back into my bed, hitting the headboard in the process. I watched as Santana appeared from the window.

"You are crazy, San!" At her abrupt entrance, I clutched onto my chest from fear.

She was beginning to appear like a monkey in the threshold of my window. The only difference was this time she was not cute.

"Why did you tell her to bring Artie over?" She ignored me, too involved with her own inquiries.

Her face held no sympathy for me. Santana's eyebrows were furrowing with anger, pushed against each other. She was breathless yet glowering with anger. I swallowed back my fear and watched as she silently sat on my bed.

"I didn't baby." I answered.

She looked up at the mention of the rare term of endearment which left my lips and instantly her face softened.

"So then, why would she–

"She wants me to forget you so she invited Artie over. Grandma is playing matchmaker. It's not my fault, San." I assured her. Her anger was subsiding and I gained composure. "It's not Artie's fault either."

Her eyes sharply turned towards me and I gasped in terror. Her eyes possessed the familiar animosity. However, I was not the same individual as before. Now, I understood who Santana truly was. Unfortunately, this new knowledge would grant me no favour because her jealousy was inevitable.

"Why do you keep protecting him?" She asked. "Am I of no significance?"

"You are behaving irrationally San. How can I value your words?"

"And his words are valuable?"

I did not enjoy the frightening sensation of being cornered into the headboard of my bed. My back hit the board as I pasted myself closer to it. Her hands were holding me captive as it lazily gripped onto my free hands.

"He is my best friend, just like Quinn. He is someone I love'" I trailed off, noticing her hand tightening around my wrist. I winced and pulled my knees to my chest so they protected me from Santana. "He is someone I love as a friend. A friend."

"Don't be silly. I saw the love in his eyes that night when you two danced. I am not an idiot. I saw his reverence and it was none other than you."

"Well then, I guess he is doing a good job in hiding it." I answered rather obtusely.

"No, you are just stupid." She accused. My mouth fell open to witness her utter impertinence.

"Leave me, Santana." I muttered through my teeth.

"I'm sorry B, I didn't mean that. I just don't want anyone else to get closer to you." She whispered softly, resting her hand on my knee. Her touch tickled me and I flinched unintentionally.

"No you are not sorry. You don't believe me when I tell you that I love you and only you. I cannot believe I fell in love with such a rude and arrogant woman! Leave now or else I will tell Grandma we are still together."

Her eyes hardened as she glared threateningly at me.

"Fine, do that. You were the one begging for me to stay anyway."

Frustrated at her agonizing arguments, I pushed her. She fell back and hit her head hard against the floor. She clutched her head and whimpered in pain as regret began to fill my heart. She looked at me with sadness in her big brown eyes and I noticed the tears threatening to spill. She lifted herself up and turned towards the door.

"I'm sorry B. I love you."

I sprinted towards her and pulled her back. I pinned her to the door, allowing no access to the locks of the door. She was breathless and trapped. I sighed in regret.

"I'm sorry too San."

I moved closer towards her lips gently brushing my lips against hers and pulling back. She stared back at me and our eyes locked. She pulled me closer and hugged me tightly.

"I love you so much Brittany and the thought of losing you makes me crazy." She whispered into my ear. Her lips softly touched my ear, grazing against my earlobe. I bit my lip, holding in the breath that revealed my emotions.

"You will never lose me San. I'm forever yours" My voice sounded too hoarse to be mine, emerging from the depth of my throat.

"I love you baby," she said, stopping to kiss my neck. I felt her mouth open against my skin, nibbling fervently. "I love you so much."

She was driving me towards the highest gradation of insanity. My heart palpated in an increased rhythm, causing my senses to become distorted. I closed my eyes as I accepted the pleasure she gave me.

"Santana," was all I could utter as her hand held my face in control, pushing me to her lips. Our lips collided and our tongues danced.

Once we parted, I stared into her eyes and realized my earlier mistake.

"Santana," I pleaded, diminishing my rough structure. "Please just don't hurt Artie. I love him so much."

"I know baby." She was breathless too.

"What?" Perplexed, I searched her eyes. She smiled mischievously before breaking into a series of laughter.

"I know, silly. Artie and I were talking. He's planning to help us persuade Grandma." She kissed me on my nose and smiled sweetly at me.

"Then what were you doing just now?! You made me hurt you" I shouted, driven with rage.

"I was just teasing you baby. Don't be mad. I love you" She kissed my nose before fleeing out of my room. I blinked at the door, realizing she had opened the locks while luring me into a swooning state.

I inhaled a deep breath, walking to my bed. I covered my crimson face with the white pillow and then screamed for the sake of my saneness.

* * *

Once the hands had gathered around my waist and swept me off my feet, I knew that my prince charming was here. Artie was finally here. I put my arms around him and laughed as he spun me around the room. I caught a glimpse of Santana standing on the threshold of the door, frowning quite angrily. I whispered to Artie, asking him to set me down. Playfully, he rejected my request. I whispered Santana's name into his ears, and put me down abruptly.

"I've missed you more than you can imagine." I hugged him tightly, sensing the tears about to emerge. He pulled me away and grinning, wiped my tears away.

"Don't cry," he mouthed. "It wasn't that long anyways."

"Jerk, easy for you to say." I punched his chest and he pretended to be in pain.

"I was just kidding," he told me, holding my head steady so I was looking straight towards him. "Sweetheart, I missed you so much, I had to rip my heart out and give it to someone else."

He kissed my forehead before winking at me. I giggle at his silliness. "You are crazy."

"Are you guys done with your FOREPLAY?!" Santana shouted.

I had almost forgotten she was standing there and watching us. Luckily, the television was on and Grandma could not hear her yelling.

Santana stomped towards us, wrapping her arm around me possessively and pulling me to her side.

"Santana!"

"If you were going to steal my girlfriend, you should've said that on the phone!" She yelled out. Baffled, I remained absolutely still while Santana screamed at the top of her lungs. On the other hand, Artie was grinning profusely as if Santana's anger induced his excitement.

"Hey, don't be jealous." Artie shrugged. Santana grabbed his collar and glared at him, prepared to hit him any second.

"S-Santana, Baby please…would you just–

"I am talking to Artie," Santana shot me a deathly look, gritting her teeth to emphasize her ire. I pursed my lips and pleaded her with my eyes. Even though I had learned her instincts, her actions nonetheless frightened me. When angered, she was the queen of terror.

"You promised me San," I stuttered, cursing myself for my paucity of confidence.

"I promised nothing," she denied.

Artie took the initiative to run from the situation. Literally.

His hands rapidly grabbed Santana's and threw Santana's clasped hand aside. I heard his shirt ripping in the process. Artie sprinted out of the room, his colon fragrance lingering behind.

In amplified anger, Santana groaned and headed towards the open door. I ran towards the door, hastily closing it to prevent her escape. My back towards her, I could not see her expression. But I felt her come closer, her heavy breath breezing against my neck. I gulped in fear and closed my eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that." She whispered. The goosebumps crawled into my skin and formed everywhere her breath passed: my shoulder, my neck, my ear, my cheek. As her index finger hooked onto the thin strap of my tank top, I realized how idiotic I was to wear a tank top with Santana in the house.

"San," I exhaled sharply.

"Hmmmm?" Her voice hummed. She moved aside the strap and kissed my shoulder. Quickly, I pressed against my chest to prevent the tank top from falling and exposing my chest.

"You told me," I spoke hoarsely, trying to gain composure. It didn't help that she was kissing my neck furiously, biting occasionally. "You would be friends and you wouldn't fight."

She chuckled against my skin and I felt her voice reverberating. "Stop dreaming B. I said we talked."

"Well, can you try? He could have said no to helping us, you know."

"I don't like him." Aggressively, Santana turned and pushed my shoulder against the door so I was now facing her frustrated face. "He pisses me off."

"He's helping us-

"Because he's in love with you."

"He's my friend. We had this conversation already." I was getting annoyed now with her aggression and her constant refusals. "I love him and you need to accept that."

"No," she said curtly.

"Fine, then. Be like that" I pushed her away, opening the door.

"Baby, please kiss me before you go," she urged, her voice pleading. I felt my heart skip a beat, wishing for the same. I swallowed away my own desires, filling it with annoyance instead. Her impact on me irritated me; I detested her direct words, so shameless but so endearing. However, for sake of my pride, I suppressed.

"Not until you learn to accept Artie."

Before she could protest, I walked to the hallway that had a perfect view of the living room. Grandma was sitting on the couch with her sowing materials. She was laughing and conversing with Artie who played with a yarn in his hands. I smiled at the two of them, acknowledging how lovable Artie truly was.

"Have you ever fallen in love, dear?" Grandma asked. Perplexed, I wondered what exactly they were discussing.

"Of course." Artie sat crossed leg across Grandma who was now looking at him with similar surprise. "She was my childhood best friend."

I shook my head, immediately recognizing his lies.

"Oh, do you mean Brittany by any chance?" Grandma inquired. I frowned, knowing she was provoking him to pursue me.

"Nope, a beautiful girl named Tina."

"Tell me about her," Grandma encouraged.

"She was my step-sister, her mom was married to my Dad." He revealed. My mouth fell open as I understood his intentions.

"I admit that, Artie is admirable, and I will try and not kill him" Santana whispered to me, settling next to me. I smiled at her as her hand covered mine and interlaced our fingers.

"And you are cute." I leaned, intending to give her a reward for accepting my condition. She pulled away slightly. "Santana Lopez is not cute" she pouted. I giggled quietly, trying to reach her. "Please kiss me San. Show me I'm yours"

She smiled at my words and leaned over and kissed me. After a moment she pulled away with a smile.

"Dork."

"Crazy, right?" I heard Artie say after no response from Grandma. "How could I help it? She fell from the sky, suddenly living and breathing in the same house as me."

"Yes, but–

"Love is unconditional, Grandma." Artie explained, cutting off her disapproval. "We fell in love and we could care less about what our parents thought."

"Oh, so she loved you too."

"More than I could ever love her." I watched his head dip down, signalling his supposed crying.

"Dear, it was clearly infatuation or else you would still be in love with her." She patted his head.

"It wasn't. It was love. But our parents were driven with disgust. I was forced to move out with Dad. We went seven states down and away from my love."

"But you got over her."

"No, I didn't. She never did either." Artie sighed. "We just coped with our conditions."

"Good. See, it wasn't that bad."

"For her, definitely." Artie agreed.

"Come on, Artie." I persisted, wishing for Artie to succeed in his ploy.

"That's why, it's infatuation." Grandma said. At this point, she already won her argument.

"I found out a few days after we moved," Artie continued. I leaned in to the rail, anticipating his answer. "She committed suicide."

"This guy is fucking nuts," Santana commented. I glared at her. "In a good way, of course."

I smiled wider, leaning to kiss her again. Satisfied, she smirked and pulled me closer. I heard Artie clear his throat. I looked down to see him gesturing for us to disappear. Grandma was ascending the staircase.

Quickening her gait, Santana headed into her room. I walked to my door, holding the knob.

"Brittany," Grandma called.

"Hello, Grandma. I was just coming to you." I lied.

"Let me speak to Santana first. Then we can talk. I have something important to discuss with you guys." Grandma appeared troubled. I knew exactly what dilemma she was struggling with, and selfishly, I could not be happier.

"Of course. I'll be downstairs."

She nodded and headed into Santana's room. I ran down the staircase towards Artie, immediately embracing him.

"See, one problem solved in a matter of minutes."

"You're amazing Artie," I held him tighter, repeating my gratefulness.

"No problem," He reassured. We both sat down on the couch.

"It wasn't true though, right?"

"No way Britt. You are one in a million to fall in love with your sister."

"You're not helping." I frowned.

"Oh, really?" He raised his eyebrow. I rolled my eyes.

"All right, you are."

We remained silent, just sitting there. I moved closer towards him, repeating my thanks. He waved his hand in my face, telling me not to worry. Then, we both waited for Grandma to return from Santana's room.

"So," I said after a while of waiting for Grandma's appearance. I smiled at him mischievously. "Who did you give your heart to after you ripped it out?"

Artie and I both started laughing as he spoke Quinn's name, and I congratulated his newfound relationship.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N

So it's been awhile. i was like really busy. hope you guys like this..this is dedicated to my girl..it's her a favorite fic and that's why i'm updating this first. i love you baby..enjoy people..

* * *

After that day, Artie left very soon. He had said that remaining any longer would not only be useless for him but burdensome to Santana. After all, who would wish to stay with two scrutinizing eyes hovering over them? However, knowing him all too well, this was not his true purpose for leaving. He must have missed the company of Quinn in Grandma's dwelling. He had returned for the sake of Quinn's contentment and his too.

As for Santana and Brittany, we were officially in an open relationship, at least in front of Grandma. Once Artie had disclosed his melancholic love story, she had received quite a shock. Her resolution could be attained through enabling our relationship. We were her ultimate closure for her utmost fear, losing her grandchildren. I believed in her love for us as she was the only individual that treated me as a human. Grandma never approved of the Lopez's adoption. She found it rather unnecessary and idiotic. If they had wanted another child so desperately, they could simply make another. Yet, counting Mama's misfortune with having any more children, Grandma reluctantly capitulated to their request.

Mama had warned the same day she took me home about Grandma's disapproval. I should not expect any more than a greeting from her. She would not treat me as her own. Despite her warning, Grandma treated me more than her kin. She showered me with love from the very beginning. If I had never known the truth about the adoption's upbringing between the Lopez's, I would believe that it was she suggesting the adoption.

Hence, I could never blame her for disapproving of Santana and my situation. I could only pray that someday she would understand the inevitable passion of our love. We were walking on the sharpest needles, perishable poison lingering on its cusp. Yet, we would continue to take these excruciating steps as long as there were us.

That was just the slightly happier part of the condition. The rest remained decadently obscure; for one day, we would have to stop walking because the poison seeping through our obstinate feet would be too much to bear. The caliginous reaper would soon appear to suffocate the source we breathed by, love. And no matter how valiant we truly were, the struggles may triumph over us.

However, perplexed over my internal struggles, I could not believe of who I feared rather than what I should have feared. I should fear the impending situation at hand: the exposure, the denigration, the deterrence, the rancor, and the demise. In its place, I feared Santana. Santana Lopez.

Her obstinacy was magnanimous but only to a definite point. Once the persistence evolves into addiction for the incontrovertible love, everything changes. Everything.

And the primary paradigm of such was revealed on the bridge the day she kidnapped me. She had threatened to jump with me, into the outskirts beneath the bridge where I would lie in the comfort of death. I would die…but I would die, loving her. She loved me that much.

But I feared myself just as I feared her. She was capable of the greatest crime for the sake of our love and I was capable of any sacrifice for the sake of Santana.

The strength of our love terrified me to the utmost degree. Santana and I would never be prepared to live without another. Even if the circumstance appeared severe, we would hold our ground until both of us fall. There was no such thing as "one was more deserving for another, not me," or "I will surrender to thee as long as my love remained secure".

Santana was too selfish to ever commit such sacrifice.

I was compelled by her, to ever dare to sacrifice her for her happiness; the sacrifice would be for the intention of reclaiming her. In the end, Santana had made me just as selfish as her.

There was no issue of rationality since reasoning ceased to exist. In our world, we avariciously existed for another. Inadvertently, if we became lost by our conscience guiding us through an alternative pathway that forbade our co-existence, we would find each other again once our gazes met and it was just us again.

* * *

"Today is the last day of vacation," Grandma spoke after clearing her throat. Santana and I averted our eyes from another, returning to our half-eaten plates. "Have you packed your bags yet?"

"Yes," Santana answered, chewing down the omelet.

"And have you?" Grandma moved her eyes towards me. I looked completely confused.

"Am I not staying here?" I inquired, wondering if she had decided to kick me out. Her eyes, motionless and fatigued, held mine. There was an awkward silence lingering in the atmosphere. I anticipated its disappearance.

"Right," she said, shaking her head. I sighed in relief. "I am sorry, sweetheart. I must have forgotten."

"Are you alright?"

"I must be getting sick, that's all." She said, laughing and coughing at the same time. "Why don't you two go up? Brittany, you can help her pack."

"I'll stay with you. Let me make you some chicken soup. Your voice is so raspy."

"I'll manage." She shooed us away with her hand while coughing away.

"Grandma, please. Let me take care of you." I urged.

"I may be old, Brittany, but not that old. I will make the soup." She said, smiling at me for reassurance.

"Don't tell me, it's because of us." I said.

"Brittany," Santana warned.

"No, no dear." She said.

"Then, let me take care of you. You haven't been well for the past days. I am worried, Grandma." I dropped my utensils and walked over to her side. She watched me as I bent down and held her in an embrace. Grandma welcomed me, resting her hand on my back.

"Okay, you can make the soup." She finally yielded. I kissed her cheek and ran off into the kitchen.

Once I entered the kitchen, I realized why Grandma did not want me going near the kitchen. I had absolutely no idea where all the supplies were. I bit my lip, looking over all the cabinets.

"_Maybe, I should call her. Wait, no. Then, what's the point?"_ I groaned in frustration, reluctantly heading to one of the cabinets and opening it. Useless. It was the cabinet of cleaning supplies.

"See, you should've just listened to her." Santana's voice emerged from behind me. I turned around and frowned.

"It just takes time. I will find the things." I assured her.

"You don't even know where anything is."

"Can you leave? I need to concentrate. Do you always have to be so rude?" I muttered, attempting to reach for the salt and pepper, pushed into the corner of the top cabinet but in vain.

"You want help?"

"I'll manage."

"You sound a lot like Grandma." She teased.

"This is different. She needs help. I don't."

After my statement, she completely broke into laughter as if I was not speaking seriously. I was speaking seriously but unscrupulously as well.

"I said I'll manage. Will you leave now?" I asked, absolutely irritated by her bantering.

"Let me take care of you," she mocked me.

I should have been more annoyed as her teasing did not stop regardless of my scolding. I wasn't however. Instead, I sensed the imprisoned butterflies scurrying to be liberated from my chest. The hand, which was still reaching for the entities, stopped in midair and shook nervously. I held in my breath and stared at her, walking closer to me. She stood behind me for a few seconds before covering her hand upon mine. Santana brought it down to my chest as I felt my racing heart.

She put her arms around my waist and lifted me up effortlessly. I could feel my skin burning as her strong arms grazed my bare skin. I shook out of my haze and grabbed the salt and pepper.

"There you go baby." Santana set me down as I set the items on the counter. "Now, was it that hard to ask for help?"

"No," I answered rather quickly. I covered my lips, the blood rushing into my cheeks. I dipped my head down so she could not see me.

"You know," Santana whispered into my ear. I flinched slightly as her lips scraped against my ear. "I can tell if you are nervous or not. You can't disguise what you have already revealed, especially since you continue to do it."

"I do not," I protested, but even then, I was dead still and gasping for breath.

"Liar," she said, before turning my head and capturing my lips. I moaned in objection. She removed her lips from mine. "What's the matter baby?"

"I have to make soup," I replied breathlessly. She chuckled before stepping away.

"I'll watch."

"No, you won't. I can't cook with you here." I took her hand and tugging her towards the door. She pulled me into her arms.

"Why is that?" She asked, stroking my sides with an excruciatingly slow pace.

"I have to concentrate."

"And?"

"What do you want me to say?" I stammered.

"That I make you stutter like this," she touched my lips. "I make you blush, I make your heart beat faster, I make your breathing almost impossible, and what else…I make you utterly senseless when I hold you, touch you, kiss you, and later, when I make love to you."

"baby, please" I hit her chest, freeing myself from her. I was completely shaken at this point, shivering with nervousness. I attempted to run away although ironically, it was I that should be staying in the kitchen.

She caught me again, this time, holding me from behind.

"San," I persisted. "I really need to make the soup."

"Then, let me stay." She cajoled.

"Why can't you just wait in the living room?" I asked.

"I'll miss you."

"For a while. You act like such a child sometimes. Was the whole cold front you did before just a disguise?"

"What do you mean?" Her hands loosened and I smiled.

"You are not as strong as you seem." I clarified.

"Are you challenging me?" She interrogated, pulling me closer again.

"What? No! I want you to leave, that's all." It seemed that nothing was working against her.

"I'll go then." She released me and turned to leave but quickly pulled me against her once more and kissed me sweetly on my lips and then left. I closed my eyes and exhaled a breath before starting to cook.

* * *

"I cannot believe you never told me about this. I mean, did you forget that I was your best friend, not Artie?" Quinn was scurrying behind me while I quickened my gait.

It was the first day back to college and there was already a bundle of homework to complete. Overwhelmed, I was not in the best mood. The memories with Santana in Grandma's house remained but a dream. She would not be there when I returned home.

The recognition of that moment hit me when I was in my bed after saying my farewell to Santana last night. I was lying on my bed, waiting for her to climb up the pipe and into my bedroom. I would feign my astonishment and silently smile with joy once she appeared behind the curtains. She would envelop me in her arms and we would fall asleep together.

It was then, I realized I had already said goodbye to her. At that exact time, she was heading back to her house and I was still there in my bed.

I did not sleep well last night.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I didn't even tell Artie. Santana was speaking to him on the phone." I explained.

"Oh, I see. Are you looking for her?" She asked, seeing my wandering eyes.

"No," I stuttered.

"If you are," she ignored me. "She's right there."

Quinn pointed to the garden, hidden under the bridge. She was standing near the entrance, her hands folded over her chest.

I smiled as I saw her. She was already looking at me as if she awaited my arrival.

"I'll see you in class." I told her, heading towards her.

"See you!" Quinn said, scurrying to class.

Santana waved towards me, gesturing me to walk faster. I did but stopped as Kitty's face intervened. I took a few steps backwards, bumping into Jessica. They were surrounding me. I peeked behind Kitty, seeing Santana standing motionless. Her joyful expression altered into perplexity.

"Kitty–

"Is it true?" She interrupted me. Her hands, like always, rested on her hips.

"Can I speak to you later? I am late for class," I tried to excuse myself.

"You never choose Kitty as your second priority." REgina said. Surprised, I looked to my side to find her standing there. All the Cheerleaders were surrounding me.

"Your class can wait." Jessica said.

"What is true?" I inquired, seeing that it was best to let them complete their business.

"That you are having an affair with your own sister?"

I let the words process through my vacant mind before I became frigid and numb in my state of decrepitude.


End file.
